


The Winds Of War.

by LogicalHeart



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 65,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21593086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogicalHeart/pseuds/LogicalHeart
Summary: (Season 8) Set after 'Winterfell.' The Long Night is almost among them, and the Dead march past the Wall. But the Dead aren't the only thing that concerns them. After Sam reveals to Jon his heritage, Jon is put in a terrible position, presenting him with more choices to make. What does that mean for the Seven Kingdoms? How will these choices affect the future of Westeros?Rated M- Strong Sexual Content and Strong Language
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark
Comments: 114
Kudos: 327





	1. Prologue

__

_I have chosen to bathe in Fire_   
_And my love has chosen Ice_   
_Yet she is my hearts only desire_   
_And she finds me easy to entice_

_You would think that our opposition_   
_To bring us unwanted dismay_   
_But this mild complication_   
_Has never bothered us in any way_

_Some would assume that the Ice would melt_   
_Instead, it sits in the midst of the flames, completely intact_   
_What we have is unlike anything I've ever felt_   
_And that is a simple fact_

_Others would expect the Fire to become tame_   
_And be reduced to mere specks of light_   
_Instead, it became a stronger flame_   
_That burns hot and bright_

_I have chosen to bathe in Fire_   
_And my love has chosen Ice_   
_Together we each magnify the other's power_   
_Without the slightest sacrifice_

* * *

Daenerys Targaryen stared at her throne in awe and admiration, feeling her heart flutter at just the sight of it. She did it; she did what most thoughts were impossible and took back what was rightfully hers. After everything she had been through, the losses she suffered, the pain she endured, it was beginning to come together for her. The smell of fire wafted up to her nose, reminding her of how she accomplished her goal. She didn't want it to be this way. Daenerys wanted peace with Cersei, she indeed did. But in the end, it was her stubbornness that caused all of the chaos to occur.

Her kindness would no longer be seen as a weakness. She would defeat her enemies by any means necessary. She could burn it all to the ground if she genuinely desired so. But she knew her limits and restraints. For now, this victory was enough. There was much work that needed to be done.

The sound of footsteps shuffling in the snow-covered floor caused Daenerys to turn her head, only to be greeted by the sight of Jon Snow. Her ally, her protector, her lover. She honestly wasn't sure if he was any of those things to her anymore. He began to keep his distance from her. It was a lot of things that were running through her mind: some unwanting, some not so much. No matter how much she tried, no matter how much she wanted it, she couldn't be loved by the people of Westeros. She wanted them, and she couldn't deny it. Daenerys wanted their love and acceptance more than anything, but it wasn't meant to be.

_Fine. Let it be fear then._

"When I was a little girl, my brother told me it was made with a thousand swords of Aegon's fallen enemies." Her lips twitched in a small smile as she stared at the throne while speaking to Jon.

Jon then looked at his queen as if he were seeing her for the very first time. His heart was pulling him in a million directions, continually trying to figure out what was right or wrong. He couldn't form a coherent thought; he didn't know what to do. All he knew was that he loved her with everything in him, and this situation was killing him mercilessly. His feet walked him over to her unconsciously.

"What did a thousand swords look like for a girl who couldn't even count to twenty?" She laughed softly, and Jon, despite himself, couldn't help but smile sadly at the sound. Beneath the new coat of armor, she encased her heart in, she was still Dany. Somewhere deep down. But there were some things you can never come back from. Jon can still feel the fire breathing down his neck, the screams of agony that followed behind, the smell of burnt flesh that paved through the entire city. Nothing could justify that, nothing.

Finally, Jon's smile disappeared before he spoke.

"Why, Dany?" He whispered, soft enough for her to hear him. "Why did you do it?"

A sigh brushed past her lips as she contemplated how to answer the burning question. She didn't know why. She had a picture in her mind about what she initially wanted to do. But once the bell had run and their swords dropped, it only awakened the fury that she kept buried. The woman who murdered her best friend and her child was now asking for mercy. To hell with that. There was a price to pay for mistaking ki kindness for weakness. And Cersei Lannister was to be the one to pay for it.

"It had to be done," Her eyes reached his, and it nearly broke her heart to pieces to see how defeated he looked. And his heart almost broke all the same as he realized the woman he fell in love with was different. She was cold, calculating, and just...heartless. She became everything that the people feared, and maybe that's what probably pained Jon the most. The fact that she proved them right, that she broke his trust in her, that she could throw it away so carelessly. He loved her, a part of would always love her more than he would ever love anything. There was still time to make this right; there was still time to fix everything.

"It didn't have to be this way," Jon said, daring to move closer to her. "This...was not the answer, Dany."

 _"This..._ is what _they_ wanted _,_ " Daenerys said bitterly. "They only understand fear, so I gave them something _to_ fear."

"Today..."

"Today," She interrupted him, moving closer with every step. "we changed the world. We're building something new and good for the people."

"Good?" Jon asked, astonished by the seriousness in her voice. "Dany, there are children down there burned to ashes! Innocent little lives, gone before they even see what life had stored for them."

For a moment, Jon saw her eyes flicker to something more sympathetic, almost remorse. It was a flicker of the woman that captured his heart with ease, the woman who was pure in most ways. But in an instant, her expression changed back to the cold woman who was betrayed those she trusted, the ones she counted on. She was far gone now, and Jon knew that. He also knew what he had to do next.

"Cersei shouldn't have used them for her gain," She said solemnly. "I took no pleasure in this, but it was necessary."

Jon dared to take another step towards her, wanting to close the distance between them. "I should have seen it." He whispered, forcing her eyes to meet his. "I don't know when I did, but I missed it. You've been in so much pain for a while, and I missed it." He was an inch away from her, now cupping her delicate face into his hands."I should've been there for you. I should've helped you process everything you were feeling. I failed you."

"Don't talk to me as if I'm a child, Jon. You're not responsible for what I do or what I decide." Daenerys' cold gaze on him began to falter as he wrapped his an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

"I know I hurt you, Dany..."

"Stop, stop. You made your choice, Jon. Nothing you say will change that. You've pushed me away too much."

Her words came out harsher than she had intended. She knew it hurt him. With every word, she said it was like killing him slower and slower. Seeing her love in pain was unbearable. But she knew it had to be said.

"I love you..." Jon's whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. "I _love_ you."

"This doesn't feel like love," She croaked, feeling her body melt against his. She couldn't deny that she loved Jon, loved him more than anything in this world. She needed him like she needed air like she needed water. He was apart of her in a way that was much more than intimacy. He brought something out of her that no man has ever brought out before. Although Drogo came very much close to.

"But it is because as much as you hate me right now, you love me. Despite everything, you love me as well."

Her hands cradled his, averting his gaze in the process, "I do, despite everything."

As her hands met Jon's, it sent familiar sparks through their bodies. It was unlike anything they've ever felt in their life. Their eyes locked, and they knew they both felt it. Jon's grip on her waist tightened, "We can fix this, Dany. We can make all of this go away, and rule the Seven Kingdoms the right way, the way you imagined it."

"This is how I imagined it. Me taking my place on the throne with my enemies defeated." She said bitterly, but her eyes softened, raising a hand to caress his cheek as well. "But I don't want to do this without you. This is our reason, our chance to make every horrible thing that's ever happened to us mean something. We can break the wheel, and we can do it together."

Jon wanted to. Lord knows he wanted to. He wanted to be by her side and rule, rule like Westeros has never seen anyone ever accomplish. But he knew the feeling would be temporary. He would always remain guilty, always remembering what it took for them to get there. He couldn't forget that it just wasn't in him to do so. It had to be done.

"I love you..." Jon's breath washed over her face, sending shivers down her spine. He still had that effect on her. "And you will always be my queen."

Before Daenerys knew it, Jon's hands caressed her face, and his lips crashed onto hers. Daenerys' breath hitched, startled by Jon's actions. Jon kissed her with more passion than he ever had. It was as if he was filling the kiss with all the possibilities their future together could possess. In a moment of weakness, Daenerys found herself kissing him back, driven by the love they share. He felt her tongue graze his lower lip and knew he had to put an end to this now before he changed his mind.

His hand reached lower to his side, blindly shifting his hand to his holster. When he couldn't find what he was looking for, he froze. The dagger was gone. And then it was pain he felt next. Daenerys' lips detached from his as she pulled back and stared at him, completely emotionless. His eyes slowly looked down and saw the dagger wedged deep into his stomach. She knew. She knew it all along. The blade was meant for her.

"Dany..." Jon's face became pale as he failed to catch his breath. She jerked the dagger upward, making him groan again in pain and drop to his knees. He looked her in her eyes and realized that it was over; it was the beginning of the end. Daenerys left the dagger in him as she bent down on both her knees to face. The corner of her lips moved upward slightly, disappointed, and hurt that he betrayed her yet again. But he wasn't making that mistake again, and she would make sure of it.

She cradled Jon's face in her hands, now soaked in her lover's blood before she presses another kiss to his lips, much longer and softer than the kiss before. The long farewell.

"And I love you, my _dragon wolf_. Now and always."

* * *

Jon jumped with a start, breathing heavily and uncontrollably. A pair of frail hands ran over his bare chest as a voice whispered sweet nothings to him.

 _Just breathe, Jon. Just breathe_.

"It's just a dream, my love..." The soft voice of his love Daenerys Targaryen spoke in a soothing tone. At the feel of her, his hands held onto her wrist in a bruising grip, but it didn't seem to bother her much. She wrapped her arms around him. "By the gods, you're shaking." Jon tried his best to steady his breathing as she ran her hand through his hair.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you..." He whispered, surrendering to her soothing touch. "Go back to sleep, beautiful."

"It's kind of hard to do that now," She said, almost if she was joking. "Do you finally want to talk about what it's about, or who?"

Flashes ran across his mind in an instant — the _smell of blood, dagger in his torso, betrayal on both parties._

"It was someone I never saw before, " Jon said, leaning into her touch. "Somone I hope I never get to see."

Jon felt like he was losing his mind. Since arriving back home to Winterfell, he had these occurring dreams, over and over again. He couldn't make sense of it. He didn't know what it could have possibly meant. But when he woke up, he had Dany. She was here for him. She was always there for him. And that made him love her even more.

"It's all over now," She kissed his forehead, chastely, "You won't have to deal with that person ever again."

He smiled weakly, "I hope so."

After a few moments of the Dragon Queen comforting her lover, he felt her situate beside him. She was beginning to fall back asleep. For a while, Jon watched her sleep. It started to become routine for him to make sure she felt safe and comfortable around him. Something inside him wouldn't shut down if he knew something was off with his queen. Jon wrapped his arms around her and flushed their naked bodies together, and he drifted back off to sleep.

But he couldn't sleep, and he realized that. The memory of the previous dream lingered in his brain.

"What's the matter?" Daenerys asked, trying to pull Jon back into her arms.

"I can't sleep," He said.

"And why is that?" She looked at him, her eyes fluttering softly.

"Nothing to be concerned for," He bent down and kissed her lips softly. "I won't be gone long."

"Alright."

After he was dressed, Jon padded to the hallway of the massive castle. A low grumble caught him off guard as he looked down to see Ghost, sleeping outside the door of his chambers. Jon smiled, weakly at his companion. Ghost was incredibly well trained, and it was thanks to Jon. When Ghost was a pup, Jon was incredibly strict with him. He was patient with him but steadfast. But it's what made Ghost become the feared wolf he was today. Jon couldn't be prouder. He could feel the cold breeze blowing through the open window. Jon loved the cold. It was a constant reminder of home. It's all he's ever known really.

Jon nudged Ghost slightly, making him lift his head for a slight moment to look at him. Jon opened the door to his chambers and gestured his head inside.

"Go on; there's a fire waiting for you." Ghost stood up slowly and stretched his muscles. His head nudged Jon's leg before he trotted his way in and laid at the foot of the bed on the floor where the fireplace resides. Daenerys was still sleeping peacefully, beautiful as always.

He smiled weakly at the sight of them before he made his way to the Godswood He loved walking through the castle alone at this time of the night, he could hear his thoughts a lot clearer at those times.

And this was a reasonable time to think.

_Aegon Targaryen._

That was Jon's real name, and it was a mighty name. After Sam told him about his true heritage, he didn't give it much thought. But for some reason, now it's been weighing on him. Jon was named after a conqueror, but not just a conqueror, _the_ conqueror. But that wasn't who he was. Jon wasn't a conqueror; he was a king. A fair and benevolent king, the type of king his father would have wanted him to be. Well, his uncle, so to say. If you had told little Jon that he would be the king one day, he would've laughed and called you mad. He didn't see himself as a king even then. To Jon, he was just a man who wanted to do whatever it took to protect his people. But to the people, Jon was a god among men.

It made him wonder who his birth father was, who he was as a person. He didn't know much about Rhaegar Targaryen, aside from what he's heard about him and his mother, Lyanna Stark. Jon wants to think he had a good heart, that he was a good man among the ones who weren't so pure themselves. If his mother loved him, then there was something about him that even she couldn't resist.

Love was a strange thing, and he knew that better than anyone.

Jon loved Daenerys. He loved her more than he's ever loved anyone before. He couldn't imagine what life would be like without her. And now, here he was, capable of destroying everything she's worked for and taking it right under her. But he couldn't bear to hurt her like that, and he couldn't let her go, and maybe that was selfish on his part. But could he look her in the eye and tell her the truth, even though it would kill her?

He could; he owed her that much.

"Couldn't sleep, either?" A voice called behind him.

Jon quickly turned around to see Bran smiling at him in his chair, a soldier standing behind him firmly.

It amazed him how much he changed over the years. He left a boy who was fighting for his life, to a man that he barely recognized. He could see a flicker of what he used to be, a resilient boy who could do anything he set his mind to. But now he was different, emotionless and cold. He still had a little bit of Bran in him, but the one he knew was long gone now.

"No, I couldn't." Jon smiled weakly at his little brother before glancing at the soldier behind the chair, "If you would be so kind as to give us some privacy."

"Of course, my lord." He bowed respectfully before leaving them alone to speak in private.

"You seem to be having these dreams a lot lately," Bran broke the silence. "It's been weighing on you, hasn't it."

Jon tried to remain oblivious, but he was pretty sure his little brother knew of his constant dreams. He was starting to get used to him knowing things before he did. "I just want to know what it means."

"They are possible futures." His brother replied. "And they all end the same."

"What do you mean?"

"It ends with your death."

Jon froze in place, his eyes widening in slight shock. A shocking revelation washed over him as he realized something. "It was you. These last few nights, it's been you showing me these visions."

Bran nodded stiffly, "I have been. It's to warn you of what's to come."

"What does that mean, Bran? I don't understand."

"It means that you must make wise decisions, Jon. You must watch those around you and prepare for the War to come." Jon couldn't find any words to express how he was feeling. It was all too much to take in, so much was going on, and he didn't know how to handle everything that was being thrown at him. But somehow, he would manage. If there was one thing the King in the North was good at, was turning situations into opportunities.

"Dany...she..."

"There are many things that she doesn't tell you, but I think that's for you to find out." Bran's eyes met his brother's, and Jon shivered at the cold wind that slapped his neck. "You must tell her."

Those four words sounded much more straightforward than what they were. Telling her the truth about who he was didn't sound like a pleasant conversation he wanted to have. He knew that they shared the same blood; he knew that. And honestly, he didn't care. He loved her, that's all that mattered. But in the end, it was her decision and her choice alone if she decided to share those feelings still. Jon didn't care what others thought about him. He's been called many unpleasant things his entire life, and over time, he built a coat of armor around him. Words couldn't hurt him as much. He followed his heart, no matter if it was wrong to others. If it was right for him, then that was good enough.

"She does deserve the truth, but doesn't everyone else?" Jon asked, mostly to himself.

"I can't answer that for you, Jon. Only you can, and you know what must be done."

Jon nodded solemnly, "You're right. I'll tell her." He owed Daenerys that much. No matter what was to come from telling her the truth, he would still love her and protect her always.

"Tell me, Bran," Jon whispered, looking at his brother once again. "Will we survive this, the War?"

Bran was silent, contemplating whether he should tell Jon the truth or not. Of course, Bran knew what was to come, but some things were meant to be kept in confidence. "I believe that's something you should worry about when the time comes."

"Is that a no?"

"It's the only answer I can give you at the moment," Bran responded to him before averting his gaze back to the ancient tree. "You should get some rest. We have a guest on his way here. He shouldn't be far."

"And who might that be?" Jon asked, raising a brow slightly.

"An old friend."

Jon wanted to ask another question, but he knew he wouldn't get a straight answer out of him.

"Don't stay awake too long," Jon nodded before leaving the Three-Eyed Raven to his thoughts. His eyes wavered to where Jon walked down the paved path and resembled a near sad smile on his lips. His hands brushed up his sleeve as he looked at the mark on his arm. The Night King was close, and only getting closer with every passing moment. He had to be prepared. He needed his family to be ready for what was to come.

"No, Jon. Not everyone will survive."


	2. I.| Blood Of My Blood.

Daenerys woke up in Jon's arms; her naked skin pressed tightly against his. The blanket was draped loosely over their midsections, leaving their legs and arms exposed. The sun gently filtered in through the curtains. Her head rested on Jon's chest while her leg was tangled between his. His breathing was slow and deep. He looked beautiful, peaceful, and content. Daenerys couldn't help but smile, thinking about how wonderful it felt to wake up in his arms. It was rare for her. This feeling that she hasn't felt in a long time. She moved closer to him, breathing in his scent, letting her bare skin siphon the heat from his body. A contented sigh escaped her lips as her hands roamed over his torso. The feeling of his scars made her sad a little. It shows the embodiment of sacrifice and honor that Jon had always displayed. She knew no man who would not jump at the chance to boast about taking a knife to his heart.

But not Jon. He was pure, and he was honest, a good man.

A part of her wished they could stay, just like this, forever.

Daenerys felt Jon's warm arms wrap tightly around her. She looked up and noticed that his eyes were open, though clouded with sleep. She smiled at him, and his eyes brightened a little in response. She moved her head to face him and kissed his lips chastely, barely able to contain her delight in being with him.

"Good morning, Jon."

"Good morning, my Queen."

Her hands brushed the underside of his jaw, "Did you sleep well?"

Jon opened his mouth to spout a lie, but he knew better. She would see right through him-. It amazed Jon of how much she knew him even with the amount of time they've spent together. She knew his traits, flaws, and faults. Daenerys knew who Jon was as a person, and it was why she loved him. And why he loved her in return.

They both couldn't seem to get enough of each other. A touch would then turn into a caress, a caress into a kiss, and they would start all over again. They were indeed in love. Anyone could see that.

"No, not really."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Daenerys felt Jon shift beneath her. He rubbed his hand up and down her back as he pulled her closer. "You're doing it, just by being here.

She slowly slipped into his lap as Jon's other hand drifted to her face, pulling her chin up so that she could get a better look at him. He was beautiful to her. She knew that men weren't supposed to beautiful, but Jon was to her. She couldn't help herself around him. She kissed him sweetly, moaning against his mouth. Jon wrapped his arms around her midsection and deepened the kiss. Their passion quickly escalated only to be silenced by Jon. He pulled back slightly but kept her close. He couldn't let this go any further, not until he told her the truth.

"What's wrong?" She asked, placing her hands on both sides of his face. Her forehead was pressed against his as their hot breaths collided to each other's face.

"There's something I have to tell you," Jon whispered, running his hands up and down her side. "Something that could change everything for us."

"What is it?" Daenerys bent down, brushing her lips against his forehead, cheek, jawline, and finally his lips. Her nose was nuzzling against his, her passion threatening to take over in an instant. "You know you can tell me anything."

"I know, but this is different..." He shook his head, his hands threatening to pull her closer. "This isn't what I wanted, Dany. You have to believe me."

Daenerys pulled back from him and eyed him curiously, now worried by his words, "Jon..."

Before either of them could form a response, a slight knock at the door caused them to jump slightly but still intertwined in each other arms nonetheless. Ser Davos' voice spoke on the other side of the room. "My king, are you awake?"

Jon's eyes reached Daenerys' again as they both sighed in unison. This conversation would have to continue later.

"What is it, Ser Davos?" Jon asked, his eyes never leaving his Queen's.

"My king, we'll be gathering everyone at the great hall in a few moments." Ser Davos said behind the door. "We only wait for you and the queen's arrival."

"I won't be long, Ser Davos." Jon sighed, cupping Daenerys' face in his hands. She leaned into his touch as Ser Davos' footsteps padded away from the door.

"We can talk about this later if you'd like," Daenerys suggested, holding his hand to her cheek.

"Yes, I think that would be best for now," He smiled at her, and she couldn't hold back hers. That was the effect they had on each other. Regardless of the situation, they could make each other smile and happy. Only people who genuinely love each other could do that. Jon's smile slowly faded, and without hesitance, he latched his lips back onto hers.

"Jon," she breathed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I need you," He said between kisses," I need you now." This could be the last time he holds her like this before he tells her the truth. To kiss her, cherish her. He needed this moment to remember her like this, where she loves him, and he loves her. Where they were just Jon and Dany, finding small moments together to hold off what was going on in the world. If this were his last time with her, he would treasure it always.

"What about the people," she moaned, feeling his lips on her neck and collarbone. She was slowly coming undone in his arms. "We shouldn't keep them waiting."

Jon pulled back and whispered, "I need you."

He was gazing at her with eyes that were black with a raw desire Daenerys could never have imagined. This was a very different Jon looking back at her. She could see just how much he wanted her . . . Needed her. And she wanted him too.

"You have me." She whispered back, taking his hand and placing it over her heart. "You have my heart, body, and soul. Always."

Not wanting to waste any more time, she attacked his lips with hers as their bodies meshed together.

Daenerys could feel his heart practically beating out of his chest. His lips moved down her throat and into that hollow of her collar bone, and she felt her body melt into a pool of arousal. A gasp escaped her plump lips when Jon roughly cupped her breast and ran a thumb over the tip. She arched her back and willed him to take more. He did. His lips kissed the valley of her breasts, moving his hands to cup them gently. The passion they were making was sensational and intoxicating. They never wanted it to stop, ever.

Her fingers threaded themselves into Jon's hair as he worshipped her breasts. Daenerys panted uncontrollably. Their intense heat surrounded each other and held them captive.

Jon roughly cupped her bottom, and she instinctively spread her legs to position herself over him. Already wet in anticipation, she could feel Jon there, just barely touching her. Jon's eyes reached hers again, and Daenerys lost herself in those dark eyes, full of desire. She was his, no matter what was to come. And that was enough for Jon. She gripped his head and bent down to meet his lips just as he slowly slipped inside her.

They both moaned and groaned at the sensation, the feeling of their bodies and souls becoming one once again. Jon pumped so slowly at first then he set a quicker pace, and Daenerys joined it, stroke for stroke, marveling at the heat that was building between them. They stared at each other intensely, breathing heavily as Daenerys rolled her body against his. The feeling was indescribable.

Jon focused on every kiss, every caress; every movement to trap this moment in his mind forever. Daenerys closed her eyes, getting lost in a primal rhythm.

"Look at me," he urged, panting heavily. She did. He caressed her face, pushing her sweat-soaked hair out of her eyes. "I love you," he said. His hands moved up and down her body, sending tingles down her spine. His touch was sensual, erotic. "I'll always love you," he whispered, kissing her lips and leaving a wet trail down her neck. She moved her hands to the back of his shoulders to pull him impossibly closer.

"I'll always love you, Dany."

"Jon..."

Before she knew it, Daenerys felt the explosion of her orgasm take over her body, sending out wave after wave of pleasure.

Jon's body shuddered, and he groaned as he, too, felt the waves pass over him as he emptied into his lover. Their hearts were thudding in our chests; both of them panting to catch their breath. She collapsed on top of him, her forehead leaning against his. Jon wrapped his arms around her to hold her captive for a little longer.

They lay on the bed, wrapped up in each other's arms as their breathing steadied, and their beating hearts slowed down. Neither one of them said anything. There was nothing left to say. Jon kissed her breasts and trailed sweet, wet kisses up and down her neck. Jon needed this, and even if this was possibly the last time he held her in his arms, their love was real as it could've been. And that's all that mattered.

* * *

"For fuck's sake, I hope I don't die here," Bronn sighed, tensing up at the eyes that were glaring daggers at them in the Great Hall.

"Better than Cersei putting your head on a stake," Jaime crossed his arms anxiously, earning an annoyed groan from Bronn. He sighed and gave him a curt nod. "Thank you for coming with me, Ser Bronn."

"Don't thank me yet, cunt. I'm just here to make sure your ass doesn't get roasted alive by a dragon or killed by a deadman until I get my castle." He explained calmly.

"Of course you are," Jaime shook his head, not able to help the laugh that escaped his lips.

On his journey to Winterfell, Bronn was able to catch up with Jaime. Bronn was always a betting man, and now, he was betting on the Dragon Queen. He wasn't foolish. He knew the strength and power that Daenerys possessed, and he didn't want to be on the wrong side when the war was among them. But was still Bronn, and he didn't do anything for free. He told Jaime to give him a castle when this was all over, and Jaime gave him his word that would.

Bronn and Jaime weren't always on the same page on a lot of things. At times, he would find his greed quite annoying and arrogant. But thinking about it now, it only made Jaime respect him for it because he knows if he were in his position, he would most likely do the same thing. And, whether Bronn wanted to admit it, he had a kind heart, and he did what was right. Though it does takes some convincing.

"You may all rise," a voice said.

It was then when Jaime saw her, Daenerys, with her arms in the crook of Ned Starks bastard. Following them were the Starks' kids. Sansa and Arya, who was wheeling her brother in. The boy Jaime crippled for life. Even now, he could remember that day so clearly. It was constant of the man he used to be, all the things he did to 'protect his family.' He felt guilty and remorseful for what he did, knowing that he could never repay the boy for what he's done. If he had the chance, he would apologize. Maybe beg for his forgiveness if it came to that. His life was in his hands, after all.

Once the 'Dragon Queen's' eyes reached Jaime's, he could tell that this meeting wasn't going to be pleasant.

"By the fucking gods," Bronn sighed, shaking his head. "No wonder why he bent the knee. He's a lucky man that bastard is."

"We could use some of that luck right now." Jaime sighed, feeling the armed men surrounded them tense up, ready for them to make one mistake to end it all.

Daenerys' gaze hardened as they stared at Bronn and Jaime, "Well, isn't this a surprise."

"A pleasant one, I hope," Bronn nodded solemnly with his tone light.

"Hardly." She gave him a grim smile. "You injured Drogon, my child, with a huge bolt as I recall. What could stop me from making you share the pain?"

Bronn tensed up slightly at the threat, swallowing, "Aye, I did. I had a job to do, and I believe I did a hell of a job. I do whatever gets me paid, and I've never missed a payment, Your Grace."

Her eyes narrowed at him, taking in his words seriously, "You have potential, I admit. But now you will pledge your sword to me, the true queen of the Iron Throne, to fight the true enemy. That is if you want to live, of course."

Bronn's eyes met his for permission, and Jaime gave him an encouraging nod. He knew it had to be done for them to survive whatever was to come. Bronn unsheathed his sword and bent the knee, reeling against the cold floor, "My sword is yours."

Daenerys nodded in satisfaction before turning her sights back on Jaime. The silence in the air was deadly and torturous, and he could only imagine the words that were about to leave her lips.

"When I was a child, my brother would tell me a bedtime story about the man who murdered our father. Who stabbed him in the back and cut his throat. Who sat down on the Iron Throne and watched as his blood poured onto the floor." Daenerys sat up a little straighter and clenched onto her chair a little tighter. "He told me other stories as well. About all the things we would do to that man once we took back the Seven Kingdoms and had him in our grasp. And now, here you are. Right where I want you."

He couldn't get upset at her threat. He understood what she was going through. His father wasn't exactly the perfect man either, but he was still his father, and he loved him. And Tywin never threatened to burn down an entire city, so that's where the understanding ends.

"Your father was an evil man," Jaime said calmly. "I didn't have a choice."

"You're right. My father was an evil man." Daenerys agreed. "But he was your king."

"He was my king. And he intended to murder half a million people rather than surrender his throne. So tell me, Your Grace, when does a ruler forfeit their right to their throne?"

Her jaw clenched in slight anger before changing the subject, "Your sister pledged to send her army north."

Bronn and Jaime sighed in unison," She did."

"I don't see an army." Daenerys made a show of looking around. "I see one man… with one hand and his sellsword."

Her eyes drifted down to his golden hand for a second, "Cersei lied to me, didn't she?"

"She lied to me as well," Jaime sighed again, but this time in defeat. "She never had any intention of sending her army north. She has Euron Greyjoy's fleet and 20,000 fresh troops. The Golden Company from Essos bought and paid for."

Daenerys shared a glance with Tyrion, silently telling each other that their battle was about to get a lot more complicated. Daenerys couldn't be angry with Tyrion, even though she genuinely wanted to. She thought he knew his sister, but then again, she foolishly let herself fall into Cersei's betrayal as well. She would not make that mistake twice, and that was a promise.

"Even if we defeat the dead, she'll have more than enough to destroy the survivors."

"We?" Daenerys pressed.

"I promised to fight for the living," Jaime said, nodding curtly. "I intend to keep that promise."

Tyrion rose from his seat and stepped in front of his queen. "Your Grace, I know my brother." Jaime felt his heart swell with pride as he watched his little brother jump at his defense. Deep down, he still couldn't forgive him for murdering their father. But, in a sense, he knew it was bound to happen. Tyrion's childhood was unlike any other average child. Jaime was there for him through all of his hardships, the hurtful words that were spatted at him, the shoves, and threats of disownment. And now here he was, being there for Jaime this time.

But the Dragon Queen gave her Hand a look that showed she was feeling anything but pride at the moment. "Like you knew your sister?" Daenerys replied coldly.

"Why would he come all this way with one man who just pledged his sword to you if he weren't telling the truth?"

"I don't know, but I just don't have a good feeling about him." She sighed, clearly irritated.

"As you shouldn't." Sansa Stark spoke up, glaring daggers at Jaime. Daenerys looked at the Stark girl in slight shock, reeling in that this was the first thing they agreed on.

"He attacked my father in the streets. He tried to destroy my house and my family, the same as he did yours."

Arya moved between Jon and Daenerys and kept a firm hand on her dagger, "I agree, I will never trust you or your family. I barely trust the imp."

"Arya..." Jon spoke up, but her rage would not be ignored.

"Have you forgotten what they did to our father, our mother, our brother? His men slaughtered my teacher, and I was there when they butchered Robb, his wolf, his pregnant wife! When they cut my mother's throat..." Her words broke off at the mention of her mother's death. Jaime couldn't help but feel guilty about that one. His mother spared his life when she had multiple opportunities to end it. And he couldn't save her in return. That's something he would always think about. "Everything they've ever done has caused our family nothing but pain. I can't forgive that, and I won't. And I'm sure you've done more than that to tear our family apart."

"I'm sorry about your mother, truly. As for everything else, I'm not."

Arya stepped forward and quirked a brow at him, "And why is that?"

"We were at war," Jamie stated. "Everything I did, I did for my house and my family. I'd do it all again."

"The things we do for love." The broken boy said, drawing the attention of everyone in the hall.

Jaime looked at the boy as well, swallowing hard. He couldn't respond to that, how could he? He ruined this boy's life, crippled, and bounded him to a chair for his selfish greed. It was strange to think about how that one moment defined him and how it shaped the path in his life. Times have changed Jaime Lannister, among other things and a certain blonde beauty...

"So why have you abandoned your house and family now?" Daenerys asked.

"Because this goes beyond loyalty." His eyes landed on Brienne. He's known exactly where she sat since she'd entered the hall. Unspoken emotions were beginning to rise again at the sight of her. She was apart of him, apart from the man he became. And he knew that. She was fierce and beautiful, and she had more courage than any man or any knight than he's ever seen. Jaime was lucky to know her. He was lucky she knew he existed. "This is about survival."

Soft but hard footsteps padded behind him before she stood on the other side of Bronn, "You don't know me well Your Grace, but I know Ser Jaime. And he is a man of honor." She said, her words coming out strong and firm. Jamie looked at her and was shocked that she came to his defense. His heart was filling up with something he never felt before, and it was all her doing.

"And why do you say that, Brienne of Tarth?" The Dragon Queen asked, slightly intrigued.

"I was his captor once." Brienne continued. "But when we were both taken prisoner and the men holding us tried to force themselves on me, Ser Jaime defended me. And lost his hand because of it."

Brienne turned her attention to Sansa, and her gaze softened.

"Without him, my lady, you would not be alive. He armed me, armored me, and sent me to find you and bring you home because he'd sworn an oath to your mother."

Sansa's lips went into a thin line before she spoke, "You vouch for him?"

"I do."

"You would fight beside him?"

She looked at him and bored her eyes in his, creating an intense silence that no one seemed to notice. "I would," Brienne replied once more.

"I trust you with my life," Sansa nodded. "If you trust him with yours, we should let him stay."

Daenerys remained expressionless as she took deep breaths, her hands flat on her stomach. Brienne bowed her head respectfully and returned to her seat.

"What do you to say about it?" Daenerys asked, looking at her lover for guidance.

Jon stared at Jaime intently with a hint of compassion before turning back to the gorgeous woman beside him, "With your permission, Your Grace. Let us give him a chance to prove himself. He gave us his word, and I'm sure he won't be foolish enough to break it again."They both shared a look that only those two can understand, and Daenerys was forced to comply.

"Very well." She finally agreed and gave her commander a curt nod. Grey Worm approached Jaime with his sword in hand, shoving it forcefully onto his chest.

Jaime bowed his head respectfully to the queen, "Thank you, Your Grace."

Daenerys smiled slightly, "Don't thank me yet."

Bronn, who was quite silent during the entire thing, finally spoke, "Let this be the last time I let you drag me to my near fucking death."

"You love the thrill." Jaime patted his shoulder, laughing slightly at his discomfort.

Bronn rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, "For fuck's sake, I hope I live to get that castle."

* * *

"Khaleesi," A soft voice said from behind Daenerys, and she couldn't help but smile. She knew exactly who the voice belonged to.

She turned around to see Jorah returning a small smile to her. Without hesitation, she hugged him fiercely. He hesitated, but after a few moments, she felt his arms wrap around her. He sighed, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"It's good to show finally show some friendly affection," She realized as she said it just how exact those words were. For a while, she had gotten used to Jorah's absence. So much had changed since then. Her world had shifted on its axis. Nothing was as she thought it would be. And yet, she had never been happier. But, that didn't mean she didn't miss the closeness she and Jorah had once shared.

And though she had moved on, she sensed that Jorah was still very lonely. Jorah broke the contact and took a step back. "I wanted to know if you would like to go on a walk with me, Your Grace. I want to…talk."

"That sounds lovely."

Jorah was nervous. She could tell he wanted to talk to her about something, but he was afraid to let it out. As they continued to walk outside in the courtyard, Jorah looked on, bemused.

"What?"

He chuckled. "Nothing, it's just…you look beautiful. You look….incredible. It's almost like you're glowing."

She was speechless, and Jorah turned away, looking off into the clearing as though embarrassed for saying too much. After a few more quiet moments, he said, "I have a gift I've meant to give to you."

That intrigued Daenerys. "A gift?"

He reached into his pocket and tossed something at her. Metal glinted in the sunlight, and Daenerys yelped in surprise as she caught it. When she saw what she held in her hand, she was confused. It was a beautiful ring, a giant ruby in a gorgeous, stable gold setting.

"It's beautiful, but uh, I don't think it's my style." She didn't get it. What could he possibly be thinking by offering this ring to her, she thought. And what was the meaning behind it?

When Jorah grew severe, she realized that the ring was no laughing matter. "That's Aegon's ring."

She turned it in her hand, and an image of the conqueror came to mind. It had been a symbol of his power.

"I still don't understand," Daenerys said, looking up at him.

"It has the Targaryen sigil, worn by the true ruler of the Iron Throne. It took some searching, but I was able to get it for you."

She was overcome by emotion. He was always thinking of her, even when there were times she didn't deserve it. She was glad she had a friend in him, to always look after her and protect her.

"Thank you, Jorah," She whispered after taking a moment to compose herself. "It's the best gift I could ever ask for."

"It's the least I could do," he smiled weakly.

"So, this is what you wanted to talk to me about?"

All playfulness went out the window when Daenerys saw Jorah flinch like she had slapped him across the face. "Not exactly," he muttered.

"What do you mean?" Jorah's complete shift in demeanor unnerved her. "What's going on?" She asked.

"I've been considering that when the dead are defeated and when you finally sit on the throne, I will take my leave," he said.

The thought of that saddened her. Jorah was her friend. She held him dear to her heart and an essential person in her life. It hurt to think that he could consider something else more important than being there for a friend.

"Why?"

"You won't need me..."

"I don't understand. Why would you…"

"It's the way it has to be, Khaleesi."

"But why?"

"Because I'm still in love with you," he yelled.

The courtyard was silent. Jorah's confession floored her. But then, if she was honest with herself, she guesses she had known all along. In many ways, that was one of the reasons she allowed Jorah to keep his distance. It was too hard seeing him knowing she was breaking his heart every time.

"I know I've made mistakes, Your Grace. But I loved you unconditionally and faithfully. You chose Daario before me, and he barely served you then. So what does that make me?"

"Jorah…"

"And now you have Jon Snow, one of the most courageous men alive." He averted his gaze. His head hung low, and his shoulders slumped. She edged towards him and took his hand in hers. He flinched slightly but allowed the contact.

"Maybe if you spent time with other women…"

"It won't change anything..."

Daenerys squeezed his hand. "But have you? Tried, I mean. There are thousands of women out there for you…"

"I don't want another woman. I wanted you." He looked away, his face filled with shame.

She patted his hand gently. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I truly am."

"When I found out that you and Jon had been…I knew that you made your decision clear."

"You were hurt, and I wasn't exactly sensitive to your feelings," Daenerys said. She did love Jorah. She loved him as a companion and friend. But she couldn't love him back as he loved her. Not like she loved Jon. Jorah brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed it. She could tell her acceptance meant a lot to him. "But you shouldn't have to. I respect your choices, and now, maybe I can finally let you go."

"Can I just say something?" His queen asked.

He nodded.

"Did you ever think you might be holding on to your love for me because I'm unavailable?"

"What do you mean by that, Your Grace?"

"I think it's easier for you to love me, knowing nothing can come of it than it is for you to put your heart out there and risk it getting broken all over again. I think you're afraid. Loving someone is scary. But, if you don't open yourself up to the possibilities, it's never going to happen for you."

Jorah was deep in thought. They sat in silence for a while. "Maybe you're right," he said, finally. "I...as long as you need me. I will stay and serve you."

"I will always need you in my life, Ser Jorah," She held his hand tightly and kissed his cheek softly. "Always."

* * *

Jon's lips blew out the match after he lit out the candle for Lyanna and Ned Stark, his family. However, his gaze lingered on his father's statue a little longer. It made him wonder how would he look at Jon now if he were still breathing. He wasn't the same man that he was when Ned was alive, and he has made some questionable decisions. He's led the Wildings past the wall, and he paid his life for it. He watched his little brother die, and he wasn't there for Robb for when he needed him the most.

What would he say to me right now? Jon thought.

"It's funny," Jon chuckled breathily, "It's almost like I can't even remember what you look like anymore, only your words. I've tried to live by your words, but it's hasn't been easy. When I think about you, I think of what my life could have been like. I think of all of the lies you told your wife and me. How I could have had a mother, and been accepted by her."

The statue stared at him blankly, almost as if Jon was expecting it to respond.

"I guess we'll never know what you were thinking, will we?" His eyes stayed on Ned's for a moment before they moved to Lyanna Stark, the mother he never knew. The mother he would have loved to have known. Jon's been told that his mother was unlike any other woman any has ever met. She was fierce and brave, and all the men wanted her. But she wasn't the type of woman who gives herself up like that. Lyanna demanded respect. She wanted to love and be loved in return as an equal. How could you not respect that? He only wishes he could have had the chance to admire her in person.

Soft footsteps padded behind him, and he knew who it was approaching him.

"Ser Davos said I would find you here," Daenerys said, now by his side. She places her arms in the crook of his and follows his gaze intently. "Who's that?"

Jon smiled weakly, "Lyanna Stark."

His mother.

Daenerys looked at Jon intently before a thought lingered in her brain, "My brother, Rhaegar. Everyone told me he was kind and an honorable man. That he used to sing songs and give money to poor children." And her eyes landed back on the statue of the late Lyanna Stark as the next words weighed on her. "And he raped her."

"No, he didn't," Jon whispered, holding onto her hand a little tighter. "He loved her, and she loved him."

Daenerys slowly faced him as Jon held her hand to his heart, "I need to tell you something, Dany." Her beautiful face masked into confusion as she stared at him, but she gave him a nod to continue.

"I love you, Dany." He said, cupping her face in his hands. "I've never felt anything like this, and I owe it all to you. I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you because I would never, ever, do that to you. You're my queen, that will never change."

"Jon..." Her breath hitched slightly at his words, but he wasn't done.

"Lyanna and Rhaegar were married in secret." Jon started. "When Rhaegar fell at the Trident, Lyanna had a baby boy. Robert Baratheon would have murdered the baby if he found out, and she knew it. So as she died on her birthing bed, was give her son to Ned Stark, who would raise the boy as his bastard."

Daenerys slowly moved her hands from his, her breath lodged in her throat, "Jon...what are you saying to me right now?"

Jon dared moved closer to her, standing firm. It was now or never.

"Dany, my name...my real name is Aegon Targaryen."

Daenerys lips parted slightly as his words floored her. She couldn't breathe; she couldn't move; she could only hear his words repeating over and over in her mind. He was right; this changes things. But not everything. Her silence was killing Jon.

"Say something."

She nodded, fully understanding what was going on, "I just...it's a lot to take in."

"I know, believe me," Jon whispered, smiling sadly at her.

"How...when...who told you this?" She barely forms a coherent thought.

"Sam told me a few days ago," Jon told her. "He learned this at the Citadel without knowing what it meant, and Bran confirmed it in a vision."

"And you've been dealing with this for the past couple of days," She gasped slightly, cupping his cheek in her hands. Her touch shocked him much, but he let it remain there.

"It's been unnerving, but it's nothing I couldn't handle." He smiled weakly.

"Aegon Targaryen." She whispered, letting his name roll her tongue. It was a powerful name indeed and was now a burden that Jon had to carry for the rest of his life. Daenerys swallowed hard, realizing there was more that needed to be addressed because Jon was right. This changes everything.

"So...you and me... that," Daenerys pulled her hand away from his cheek and took a deep breath. Her brother's son and she was madly in love with him. Her heart could no longer be another's, for it was Jon who now held it. Blood of her blood, he was. But, in the end, she found out that she didn't care about it. Not really. She carried herself that showed that she didn't care about what others thought of her. She wanted Jon, and she wanted to be with him in every way, in any way. But she couldn't think about just herself. This concerned Jon as well.

"Can I ask you something?" Jon interrupted her thoughts, and she nodded in response. He moved his hands to her wrists, admiring her beauty as the fire danced across her features. He pulled her close and held her in his arms, her breathing hitched in response.

"Do you still love me?"

Her eyes reached his, and they easily read him. It was the only thing that concerned him. He only wanted to know if her love for him was still pure and true. He could have it all, the throne, his heritance, everything he desired. But it would mean nothing if he didn't have the woman he loved. Daenerys touched his face, her palms running along his cheek.

"I do," She whispered. "I will always love you."

"And I for you," He kissed her palm, sending jolts through her body. "I for you."

"There is still the matter of..." Before she could finish, Jon was shaking his head.

"I don't want it, Dany." He leaned his forehead down to meet hers. "I never have. I want you."

She sighed, "You could be so much more, Jon. I want you to rule with me, as it should be. You deserve everything your heart desires."

Jon kissed her forehead softly, "We'll talk about that when the time is right."

A soft laugh escaped her lips, "What would be an appropriate moment to discuss it."

He laughed as well, "I don't know. But what I do know is that for now, all I want is you. To stand by my side."

"As I said before," she whispered, slowly wrapping her arms around his neck. "You have my heart, body, and soul. Always."

Jon couldn't help himself as he bent down, and their lips met in a passionate kiss. It was one of the kisses that said everything that needed to be said. They didn't care about the circumstances that were against them. They didn't care for anyone's approval. Their love was stronger than that. They had each other to lean on even if the world shunned them. And that was perfectly fine with them.

They pulled away slightly as Jon rested his forehead back on hers, his breath washing over her face. The look on their faces made their decision final, and there was no changing that.

"I love you, my queen."

Daenerys smiled, brushing her finger down his jawline before whispering, "And I love you, my dragon wolf."


	3. II.|Broken Tension.

Sansa, Arya, and Bran's eyes were averted to the open field of the courtyard, watching everything move around them. It was strange being back home for all of them. So much has changed since then, they had changed since then. Nothing was the same, and nothing would ever be the same again. But they made it back, the last of the Starks. They were home, and they were going to do whatever it took to defend it.

Arya's gaze followed over the courtyard and watched as an Unsullied soldier continued to dig with precision and an unearthly determination. From what she knew about them, the Unsullied were elite soldiers, one of the best you would ever see. Mutilated at a young age and then trained relentlessly. Their training was so brutal that one of every four boys didn't survive. They had no weaknesses, didn't fear death, and it was why Arya admired them a little. It was also why she felt sorry for them. Everyone in Winterfell feared them, scurried away from them without even giving them a chance to introduce themselves. They treated them as potential enemies instead of potential allies. Arya didn't think that was right.

"Our people don't seem to like our guests here," Arya observed as Bran and Sansa hummed in agreement. "We should at least give them a chance before we start glaring accusations at them."

Sansa followed her little sister's gaze and felt her chest clench in caution. Sansa didn't blame the way her people thought. She didn't trust them either; it was hard for her to trust anyone. Her ability to trust people were starting to become scarce with her. If it didn't involve her family or her people, it was hardly any concern for her. Sansa Stark had come a long way from the naive girl she was all those years ago, and there were some things that she still had to learn.

"They're foreigners, Arya. What did you expect?" Sansa folded her hands in front of her, now averting her gaze.

"So that means we treat them differently because they're foreigners?" Arya scoffed, crossing her arms. Even she knew the concept of knowing who to trust and showing decent hospitality. They had come all this way, a land they have never known, far away from home. To save lives and fight a war, they had no idea what they were getting into. The least they could do was make them feel comfortable, for the time being anyhow.

"We don't know them, Arya."

"We haven't exactly introduced ourselves to them properly," Arya turned around and looked at her sister. "They're people too. We should treat them like it."

"They won't be here long. When the war is over, they'll follow their _Queen's_ command." Sansa said the word 'Queen' in envy and disdain.

It was then when Sansa's eyes landed on Jon and Daenerys, strolling the yard. His hair was loose, free from it's usual restrains. Over the past couple of days, she had noticed how close they become, and looking at them now, she could tell that something was different. They were even more intimate than she thought they would be. Behind her were her commander and her handmaiden, following them closely. Sansa was slightly angry at that for some reason, her distrust in them slow growing.

"Why her?" Sansa whispered, mostly to herself. But Bran heard her.

"Because we need her," He said in his usual dull tone. "We won't survive without her."

Sansa eyed her broken brother skeptically, "She's manipulating Jon."

"Jon loves her," Bran kept his gaze on them, watching as Jon stops and presses a small kiss on her forehead. No one but Grey Worm and Missandei noticed their public display of affection as the kiss was as quick as it happened. "They're even closer now."

A lump formed in her throat as Sansa watched them. She couldn't deny their love. It was plain as day for anyone to see. It just didn't change the fact that she didn't like nor trust the Dragon Queen, and she probably never will. Jon gave her a look, silently asking if she was alright being alone, and she nodded. Jon smiled at Grey Worm and Missandei before making his leave and reporting to his duty.

"He looks so happy," Arya smiled weakly, watching Jon walk through the yard. She whipped her head around, and her eyes landed on Sansa's, "Why can't you be happy for him? We should let him be happy. We owe him that much."

Sansa's mouth opened to speak, but it immediately closed, the words not wanting to come out. It was right there on the tip of her tongue, but it quickly faded. And the thought process behind it. Jon was happy, happier than she's ever seen him in her entire life. She tortured him when they were children, called him names and spit at his feet. Now, they were all grown up, and she was still finding ways to make Jon's life difficult. Even if this time is unintentional. And in some ways, she knew that her distrust in his queen would cause problems for Jon, for everyone involved really. But ultimately, Sansa didn't care.

"What do you think, Bran?" Sansa sighed, her gaze still stuck on the Dragon Queen. "Can we trust her?"

"That depends on you, Sansa." He looked at his sister, noticing how her skeptical gaze landed on Daenerys, the slight disdain behind it. "When the time comes, you will need her. We will all need her."

Arya moved to her brother's side and kneeled by him, "And why is that?"

It was then Bran beginning to see flashes.

_A unique sword being forged as another one is being swung in another time, leaving nothing but black dust to pick up. King's Landing is burning, the spoils of the war as Daenerys stands over the ashes, triumphantly. She is soon seen holding a babe in her arms, bleeding on her birthing bed, and another war has begun in its place._

"I need you to be prepared for what's to come," Bran repeated his words to Jon to them. "We don't have that much time to make enemies among ourselves. We need to work together so that we can survive this war."

Arya looked between Sansa and Bran and realized how valid his words were. They were all on the same side, the living. The Great War was almost among them, and everyone needed to be ready for this fight. Without another word, Arya stood up and made her way to the Dragon Queen, ignoring the cold look her sister gave her on the way down.

* * *

Daenerys watched the men swing their swords, sparring with each other. It amazed her for the determination they had. Even the children showed strength. They trained every day, dug the trenches up, and set up defenses. She was in awe by their grit to survive, and she was also amazed by Jon. Jon made sure that the children were prepared for what was to come. They had never been in a battle a day in their life, but they were getting thrown into one without a lick of training. But Jon was an excellent teacher. He made them feel safe, gave them confidence. He wanted them to know that they were important too and that they had a role to play as well.

Jon bent down on one knee and helped a little girl adjust her bow. He kept a hand on her shoulder and spoke soft words to her to motivate the young girl. He even managed to make her smile, and that made Daenerys smile in return. It was the most adorable thing she had ever seen, and it was almost rare seeing Jon like this. But she was enjoying the view of him being happy, that's all she ever wants for him. Happiness.

And that would have to wait until after the war is won.

"Your Grace," A voice called to her, causing her to turn around and see the face of Arya Stark. "If I may have a moment of your time."

Grey Worm stepped in front of Daenerys, waiting for his queen to give him a command.

 _"Ziry iksos. Torgo. Nyke pāsagon zȳhon."_ Daenerys nodded to her commander, which he curtly returned.

_"It's alright, Torgo. I trust her."_

Grey Worm was used to him being called by his real name at this point, but only Daenerys and Missandei could only utter the name. Anyone else who dared tried would have a dagger at their throat. Arya nodded at the three of them before holding her hand out to Grey Worm, "We haven't been formally introduced to each other. I'm Arya Stark."

He looked at her hand, slightly surprised by the gesture. He didn't know what brought this on, and it was honestly bringing him on edge. He was trained to question everything about people's motives, to read people, and when they make the wrong, attack with no question. But his Queen said that she trusted her, and he believed his Queen no matter what. His hand wrapped around her forearm in a formal shake as he said firmly, "Grey Worm."

"I wanted to properly welcome you to Winterfell," Arya bowed her head to Daenerys. "I know it hasn't been a _warm_ welcome, but I wanted to show you the hospitality you all deserve."

Missandei smiled at her, "Thank you, that's very kind of you."

"It's the least I can do," Arya nodded back, "You're going out of your way to help us, so it's only fair we do the same. If anyone that's giving you a hard time, you come to Jon or me, and we'll handle it."

Daenerys smiled weakly at the young Stark girl, slightly reminding her of her lover. She remembered the way Jon's eyes lit up the day they reunited. Daenerys never really experienced that feeling before. She loved her brother, in a way, but it wasn't the same as Jon felt for Arya. He would die for her, lose an eye, hand, and arm if that's what it would take to keep her safe. But times were different now, and Arya was no longer in need of protection. She was a force to be reckoned with.

"I appreciate your help, my lady."

"I'm not a lady." She quickly replied, not trying to sound rude because of her assumption. "I never have been."

"Meaning?" Daenerys pressed, a little intrigued.

"It wasn't in my cards to become the 'Lady of Winterfell," Arya shrugged, showing off her 'Needle. "I'm much more than that. Just like you're more than what they see you."

Her smile widened at that, "I can't argue with that."

"I know you can't. On to other things, Your Grace. May I ask, have you wielded a sword before?"

"A few times, but I'm not very good at it," Daenerys answered honestly.

"Good," Arya said, shoving a sword in her hands. She barely had a chance to react, and it quickly pulled her down by the weight, "That's what I'm here for. To make sure you don't die on the field of battle."

Missandei interjected politely, "With all due respect, Arya Stark. She doesn't need to train with a sword; she won't even be on the field fighting like the rest of you."

"Anything can happen, better prepared then caught off guard," Arya eyed the Dragon Queen for a moment and hummed thoughtfully. "Your temper will be a problem."

That baffled her, "Temper?"

"Anger can be a weapon. If you control it, use it." Arya stated, now moving closer to Daenerys. "From what I can see, you cannot yet."

"I don't have an anger problem," Daenerys said through gritted teeth. Despite her stubbornness, Daenerys knew that she could sometimes be impulsive, and with that impulse, comes hasty decisions. She wishes she could control it better, but she couldn't help it. It was part of her nature. And Arya saw that. Arya could read people with one small glance. She could understand their entire lives by just looking into their eyes, and she knew what Daenerys was capable of, which was why she was helping her now.

"You don't?" Arya asked, sheathing her sword.

"No, I don't."

"Alright," Arya stepped forward and held both of her hands up in front of her. "Go on, then."

Missandei and Daenerys eyed her curiously, wondering what was she doing, "You want me to strike you?"

"I want you to try."

Daenerys moved her gaze to Grey Worm, and he nodded respectfully, knowing fully what her method was. She sat the sword down by her feet and took a deep breath.

Unenthustiacally, she threw a punch at Arya's right palm, and without hesitation, Arya moved her left one and smacked her hand soundly, making her pull her hand back in pain.

"Ouch! What are you..."

"Try again," Arya interrupted.

Daenerys struck again, only to find the same result. Her nostrils began to flare in anger, "Why are you doing that?"

"Too slow. Try again."

With more force, she struck again, and Arya quickly shoved her fist down. Her anger was building up quicker than she expected."Cut it out!"

"Weak. Again."

She smacks her hand down again, "Again!"

"Stop it!" Her strike was so powerful; she lost her footing, and Arya barely caught her by the wrist. She helped her up to her feet and gave her a stern look, "Your anger...it can consume you. From what my brother tells me, the fight will be difficult. And if we survive, there will be more fights to come. You must be ready."

"She's right, my queen." Grey Worm spoke. "We must be ready for anything."

As Daenerys fought to catch her breath, she couldn't help but be baffled at what the young girl accomplished. She made her realize a flaw that was within her and helped her through it. Arya wanted to make sure that she was prepared. Not just for herself, but for Jon. If she died on that field, knowing that she could have helped prevent it, she wouldn't have been able to forgive herself.

"I understand," Daenerys breathed, finally calmed down. "I'm willing to learn whatever you have to teach me."

Arya's lips lifted to a small grin, "Good. Now," she let go of her wrist and put the sword back in her grasp. "Shall we begin?"

"Yes," she smiled, feeling a lot more confident. "We shall."

Arya nodded curtly, and the training began as Sansa watched them angrily.

Bran could only smile slightly as he too watched, "Well done, sister." A soldier wheeled him away while the training continued.

* * *

"Don't move, or I'll cut you."

Jaime raised his head so that the maiden could make a fresh swipe on his neck. Her soft-touch almost made the razor glide over his skin without feeling, and when she rinsed it in the bucket, he was surprised that she had done anything.

"So, how long are we gonna be in this place?" Bronn asked as the maiden continued with her light mechanically movements.

"Until we defeat the dead," Jaime said simply.

"I'm starting to regret bringing my ass down here," Bronn sighed as he watched Jaime get his beard shaven off.

"You're free to go if you'd like."

"Oh no, you're not getting rid of me that easily. I'm only doing this for my castle, nothing more."

"So you say," I shrugged. "But, I'm starting to think you came for something more."

"You're the one to talk," Bronn snickered, leaning in close. "There's not a certain big blonde beauty you're happy to see."

Jaime opened his mouth to speak for a moment until he quickly closed it. He had to admit that he was happy to see Ser Brienne. In all honesty, he missed her. He truly did. The last time they saw each other, he barely spoke two words to her, even though his heart yearned to. There was something about her that made him feel free, open, and vulnerable. She could see right through him as no other person has. Even Cersei. He didn't even realize that the maiden was done with his shave until she ran a warm washcloth over his face, the previous statement forgotten.

"All done." She said.

"Thank you," Jaime appraised her work in the small mirror.

"Of course." She nodded respectfully before cleaning up the mess and walking out the room.

"How do I look?"

"Like a cunt." Bronn shrugged.

"Perfect," Jaimie wrapped his coat around his armor and made his way to the door.

"Where are you going now?" Bronn asked, a little annoyed.

"Someone is waiting for me."

* * *

Brann sat in his chair in silence at the ancient tree, waiting for his company to arrive. Being in the Godswood weirdly seemed to calm him; it was where his thoughts could roam free. Where it was peaceful and barely any interference, it was also where he could warg into any animal he desired. He would never admit it, but he missed his legs. He missed being able to shoot arrows at a target, being able to run around the courtyard joyfully, even climbing, which lead to his predicament. Bran may have changed marvelously, but deep down, he was still a man. And even men have emotions.

Soft footsteps patted behind him, and Bran knew who it was. "I'm sorry for what I did to you," Jamie started after a small moment of silence.

"You weren't sorry then." The boy said slowly, as though none of this ever mattered to him. "You were protecting your family."

He was protecting his family, yes. And all he'd managed to do was doom them and many others.

"I'm not that person anymore," Jaime sighed, knowing that his words rang true.

"You still would be, if you hadn't pushed me out of that window. And I would still be Brandon Stark."

That baffled Jaime a little, "You're not?"

"No. I'm something else now."

"You're not angry at me," Jaime stated without asking.

"If I were angry, I would've let them kill you on sight," Bran shrugged slightly, his eyes still gazing ahead of him.

"Why _didn't_ you tell them?"

"What good would it do?" Bran shrugged, "It's in the past, we can't dwell on it any longer."

"But maybe we should," Jaime whispered, years of guilt beginning to arise out of him. "I deserve to pay for what I did to you."

Bran looked at his golden hand before averting his gaze back to the tree, "Losing your hand is good enough for me."

Jaime couldn't respond to that. In a way, he got what he deserved by losing his hand. Even though it wasn't by Bran's hand, it was enough for him to let the past be the past.

"I hear you have visions," Jaime swallowed the lump in his throat. "Will we survive this?"

"Every war has a price," Bran stated. "A price must be paid for us to survive."

"And what is this price you speak of?"

Bran's emotionless finally reached his as he said, "Life."

* * *

After an enigmatic conversation with Bran, Jaime arrived at the yard only to be greeted by his little brother. They walked through the yard, watching as the men and children train relentlessly.

"Well, here we are," Tyrion stated, breaking the tension.

"Yes, here we are."

"Together again." Tyrion gave a half-smile. "You look better this way, shaved and all."

Jaimie couldn't help but smile at his compliment until his attention averted back to the crowd in front of him. "How do they feel about their new queen?"

"She's your new queen, as well."

Jaime wanted to respond to that but thought better of it. It was better to let him believe that.

"They remember what happened the last time Targaryens brought dragons north. They'll come around once they see Daenerys is different."

"Is she, though, different?"

"She is."

"You're sure about her?" Jaime pressed, his eyes landing on the Queen herself. He was slightly shocked when he saw her and the Stark girl, dueling with swords aggressively. She had a fierce look in her eyes with every strike. She looked as if she's been training for hours.

"I believe in her."

"She seems to trust you enough at the moment," Jaime said, a hint of worry in his tone. "I just want you to be careful."

"I've failed her too many times. I won't be foolish to make the same mistakes again."

Jaime hummed in agreement.

"Cersei told me the pregnancy had changed her. A chance for you both to start again. And I believed her." Tyrion looked up to his brother to see a sad smile now residing on his lips. "Was she lying about the baby too?"

"No, that part is real," Jaime sighed. "She's always been good at using the truth to tell lies. I wouldn't be too hard on yourself. She's fooled me more than anybody."

"She never fooled you," Tyrion stated, "You always knew exactly what she was, and you loved her anyway."

He knew that he was telling the truth. It was a part of him that always realized who Cersei was. His heart couldn't deny her no matter what she did, and he knew that's what made him a weak man in the end. He was no longer bound by that path anymore. It was time to make better decisions.

"So, we're going to die at Winterfell." Tyrion sighed, taking everything in once again. "Not the death I would've chosen. I always pictured myself dying in my bed, the age of 80, with a belly full of wine and…"

"A girl's mouth around your cock." Jaime finished with him as they shared a smile

"At least Cersei won't get to murder me," Tyrion said confidently. "That'll bother her for the rest of her life."

Jaime's heart swelled once again as another view caught his eye. Ser Brienne of Tarth. His eyes couldn't leave her, and he was so mesmerized by her that he couldn't comprehend it. A small part of him remembered another time and another place...and a woman with short blonde hair he was finding impossible to avoid.

* * *

"The moment we can get the last infantryman out onto the field, we should shut the gates." A voice spoke to Sansa as Daenerys approached the doorway. Her muscles were burning in pain, her throat was dry from screaming, and her fists ached from clenching onto the swords too hard. But she couldn't have felt more alive.

"Keep them open for as long as you can. There are still people coming in from the countryside." Sansa replied quickly.

"Lady Sansa," Daenerys announced herself. "I was hoping we could speak alone."

Sansa stood up and nodded to the man beside her, and he quickly showed himself out. "I know why you're here," Sansa said coldly.

"Do you now?" Daenerys muttered under her breath.

"This is about Ser Jamie. My indifference towards him."

"I thought you and I were on the verge of the agreement before." Daenerys started, sauntering to the table she was sitting at.

"Brienne has been loyal to me, always." Sansa said, "I trust her more than anyone."

"I wish I could have that kind of faith in my advisors." Daenerys joked lightly, but it didn't make the Lady of Winterfell budge.

"Tyrion is a good man," Sansa defended. "He was never anything but decent towards me."

Daenerys nodded her head in agreement, "He is a good man, but that's not why I asked him to be my Hand. I asked him to be my Hand because he was good and intelligent and ruthless when he had to be. He should never have trusted Cersei."

"You never should have either," Sansa replied with a clipped tone.

"I thought he knew his sister." Daenerys smiled tightly, "But the woman has layers that she keeps well hidden."

"Families are complicated," Sansa smiled back.

"Ours certainly have been."

They both sat down and stared at each other intently.

"A sad thing to have in common," Sansa said.

"We have other things in common. We've both known what it means to lead people who aren't inclined to accept a woman's we've both done a damn good job of it, from what I can tell." Sansa couldn't help but smile at that, despite her absolute stubbornness.

Daenerys tilted her head and sighed at Sansa, "And yet, I can't help but feel we're at odds with one another. Why is that?"

Sansa opened her mouth to speak, but no words came.

"Jon," Daenerys answered for her. "This is about Jon..."

"He loves you, you know?"

She could say that now, without any hint of anger. Jon would always love her. He thought of her as family, someone he shared important memories with. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her at this point. And Sansa saw that a little, and even she couldn't deny it.

"And I love him, more than anything." Daenerys leaned forward, eying her coldly. "I could care less of what you do with your life, but Jon's worried about you. He thinks you're short-changing yourself out of your happiness. And I love him too much to see him hurt or unhappy."

"I'm looking out for my brother! Sansa said coldly, "You can't tell me that if our roles were reversed, you wouldn't be just as cautious."

There was a heavy silence while she thought about her answer.

"See you couldn't…"

"It's not your choice, it ours. Jon and mines alone." Daenerys bit back. "What makes us happy is our business. I don't know why you have such a petty distaste for me, but I can honestly tell you that I frankly stopped caring. I won't be a threat to you or your people, unless provoked of course."

Sansa didn't look convinced. "You're a good liar."

"I could have your castle burned if I willed it," Daenerys said, clenching her fists before unclenching them. "But I love Jon, and I would never betray his trust like that."

"You know, I almost believe you," she said.

Then she looked at her. Daenerys couldn't imagine the thoughts that must have been running through Sansa's head. "In another life, I think...maybe you and I could have been.."

She left it unsaid.

"Probably," Daenerys grudgingly admitted. That made her chuckle.

"But," she continued, "maybe one day we will be. Friends, that is. Sisters..."

Sansa nodded thoughtfully. "I wouldn't count on it.."

Before Daenerys could respond, a voice interrupted, "Apologies, my lady. Your Grace."

"What is it?"

"Ironborn."

Sansa and Daenerys went to the Great Hall to find Theon Greyjoy as dropped down to one knee in his Queen's presence.

"My queen."

"Theon," She smiled despite her curiosity and walked to him to place her hand on his shoulders, "You're alive."

"For a time, it seems." He rose to his feet.

"Your sister?" Daenerys asked, eyes quickly scanning the room.

"She only has a few ships, and she couldn't sail them here. So she's sailing to the Iron Islands instead, to take them back in your name."

"That's good, but why aren't you with her?"

His eyes averted to Sansa, and his gaze lingered on her for a while, creating an unspoken tension between the two, "I want to fight for Winterfell, with your permission, Your Grace. And if you'll have me, Lady Sansa," Theon whispered.

Daenerys looked between the two of them for a moment before nodding in agreement, "I respect your decision."

He nodded back and turned back to Sansa, "Lady Sansa?"

As an answer, Sansa rushed to Theon and wrapped her arms around him, her eyes brimming with tears. His arms slowly surrounded, and he closed his eyes to take in everything that was Sansa Stark. It only took a short moment to realize the depth of Theon's feelings for her. The way he looked at her, the way he held her, it was almost if nothing else mattered to him but her.

He loved her, but could she love him in return?


	4. III.|To The Wonder.

_"Father..."_

_Jon's eyes opened, and he immediately felt his body shift, as if the wind was knocked out of him. The woman in front of him was kneeling, smiling proudly at him_ _. She looked beautiful, even with a faded scar resided on her cheek. A knights armor covered her body, the Targaryen sigil placed on her breastplate, and Longclaw was at her hip with the wolf pommel on her waist and dark brown boots._

_"Aryanna..." Jon called her name without even trying to. It was like he had said the name a thousand times._

_"I've returned to you from the battle, father," She rose to her feet and made slow footsteps to him. A smile exploded onto Jon's face as he caught wrapped the woman in his arms and lifted her off her feet. "I'm home!" Jon felt exhilarated, relieved, and happy. He didn't know what he felt most, and he couldn't control it._

_Aryanna hugged her father a little tighter before pulling back. She was probably 18 or 19 by the looks of it. Her long black hair was long and shining in the light. Her eyes were stunningly blue, hinting off something familiar that he couldn't put his finger on._

_"Welcome home!" Jon exclaimed with a smile. He looked her over, and his smile only grew, "You look strong, daughter."_

_"I'm always hungry."_

_Jon laughed slightly at that and walked through the front entrance with his daughter's arms in the crook of his, "Has it served you well?" He nudged his head to the sword on her hip, and she could see the proud smile on her father's lips._

_"Nothing I couldn't handle..."_

_"I remember there was a time you couldn't even hold it up," Jon said, "And now look at you. Aryanna Targaryen, Lord Commander of the Queensguard."_

_She sighed deeply as if she remembered something, "I've come a long way from those training dummies back at Winterfell."_

_"And your mother and I couldn't be prouder of you. You take after her, more and more."_

_The vision followed them as they walked through the hallway that was lit by the midday sun. The coolness of the castle gave him some small comfort. They emptied into the throne room where from a distance, a woman was sitting on the throne at the end of the hall as a man stood by her, taking notes as she spoke. Jon's smile returned as he spoke, "My Queen."_

_Her head rose to reveal the face of Queen Daenerys finally. She looked a little older than he remembered but was still beautiful nonetheless. Then again, she would always remain beautiful to him. She immediately smiled at the two people before her, making the servant bow his head politely at the company._

_"Your Grace, my lord," He nodded to both of them._

_"My loves," Daenerys whispered lightly, a shaky smile hitting her lips._

_"That'll be all for now, sir," Daenerys whispered without a glance as she stepped into the light, the crown shining off the reflecting sun. Her beauty blew Jon away. He didn't understand how a man like him found a woman like her, who loved him just as much as he loved her. But perhaps it wasn't something for him to understand, he was grateful to have her all the same._

_Daenerys finally reached the woman and touched her cheek, her thumb gliding over the faded scar, "Talen."_

_"Mhysa..." Aryanna smiled, fighting the tears that were threatening to leave her eyes._

_Daenerys pulled her daughter in her arms and sighed in content, breathing in her scent, "Oh, how I've missed you, my love."_

_"I missed you too, mother. Every single day."_

_After letting them have their reunion, Jon walked over to them as a smile grew on Daenerys' face. Jon had one of his own. When he reached her, she suddenly frowned. When she departed from him, her left hand reached up to touch his hair when she noticed something was missing._

_"You're not wearing your crown!" She scolded._

_"I told you I don't like wearing that thing. Crowns are your style," He defended with a laugh._

_"We have guests coming soon, at least wear it for the feast."_

_"I think not," He chuckled._

_"Stubborn fool," Even though she was still reprimanding him, she was smiling again. Jon chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her, and Daenerys gave in instantaneously. He could feel the passion in their kiss, the need, and want. It was like with even the years passed by, their love for each other never weakened. It only grew. And with that love came Aryanna._

_"I'm still here, you know," Aryanna said with her brow cocked and her arms crossed. "You two just can't help yourselves."_

_The two parents broke from their kiss though Jon kept on hand on his wife's shoulder._

_"It's what people do when they're in love," Daenerys_ _stated defensively. "Soon, my love, you will understand that."_

_"I only need you two." Aryanna smiled at them and joined their embrace. "I only need you."_

_"You have us, daughter," Jon closed his eyes tightly and kissed her forehead._

_His arms wrapped tightly around his girls as he whispered, "Always."_

* * *

"Jon!" A hand waved in his face hastily, knocking him from his stupor. He shook his head slightly, and his eyes met Arya's as she stared at her brother skeptically. "Are you alright?"

"Aye, I am." Jon cursed himself silently for being so distracted. "I'm sorry, was there something you needed?"

"The gates, we have more guests."

The sound of a horn blaring reached his ears, bringing his attention to the gate. Ghost was at his feet and stood vigilantly at the sound, ready to take any action.

"This day is full of surprises, isn't it, boy?" Jon said, mostly to himself. Assuming he understood him, Ghost gave him a low rumble that came deep from his chest.

"Come," Jon ordered, and Ghost followed his lead closely. Arya picked up the pace and was walking by Jon's side.

"Do you know where the Queen is?" Jon asked her as they walked.

"After her training, she went to the war room. She's discussing our next move with her Hand and Theon Greyjoy."

"I heard he was here, is he alright?"

"As good as Theon can get, I suppose." There was a slight distrust in her tone that told Jon she was upset about something, which he knew what it was. Arya would never forget what Theon did to Robb. That night would always be a scar, a scar that would never fade. But Jon knew his sister, and he knew that she had a great compacity to forgive. This situation, however, would take time.

"He's paid for his mistakes, Arya," Jon said.

"So did we."

"We can't let anger consume us, little sister." Jon stopped to place his hands on her shoulders. "We have to move on, and we have to move a lot better than we have been."

"There are some things that are worth being angry for."

Jon smiled at her stubbornness and placed a fond kiss on her forehead, "In time, you'll see. Anger gets you nowhere but in a dark place."

"My little crow!" A voice roared from behind them, and before Jon could react, strong arms surrounded him and pulled him into a crushing embrace. He took a moment to pull back and was met by Tormund's smiling face.

"You made it," Jon laughed slightly, clapping his back.

"I don't die that easy." He smirked, clapping Jon's back in return.

It was then Jon noticed Edd, Ser Beric, and Sam in a small huddle, catching up on lost time. Tormund walked ahead, and that's when Arya whispered, "He's...interesting."

"He's good at killing people." Jon chuckled slightly.

"So I've been told."

As Jon approached them, they gave him a sad but welcoming smile, "How did you all find each other?"

"We met up at Last Hearth," Edd spoke up.

"The Dead made it there before we could," Tormund said gravely, his mood deflating slightly.

A chilling thought entered Jon's brain, but he already knew what happened, "So the Umbers..."

Ser Berec shook his head, and Jon had his answer. Their numbers were still short.

"How long do we have, "Jon asked, not wanting to know.

"Before the sun goes down tomorrow."

Jon sighed and gave Arya a curt nod to go to the war room for strategic talking. They were losing too many men and women to this monster, and he wasn't willing to let him take more innocent lives on his watch. Jon froze in his tracks when he saw Bran sitting by the gate, staring at him. His chest tightened as they spoke without words and he instantly turned his head, not wanting to get into it at the moment.

"Seen the big woman around here by any chance?"

* * *

"What can we do?" Sansa asked by Jon's side, her arms brushing against Jon's slightly. "If the Night King is as grim as you say, we need to think about our people's safety."

Jon nodded in agreement, "You're right, we need to evacuate them as quickly as possible. We can't afford to lose any more innocent lives to the Night King."

Daenerys pulled Jon close against her side, not as a display of possession, but because she knew he needed her reassuring warmth. Throughout everything that's been going on, Jon hadn't had time to process everything. He was relying on Dany's strength to get him through this. It was yet another thing Jon would be eternally grateful for. She stood by his side, ever vigilant with encouragement and hope. She made him feel as though they were partners in this fight. Sansa watched them, looked them both over, and then she nodded curtly in acceptance.

"There's still the pressing issue of a dead dragon in their ranks." Davos sighed, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

"Excuse me," Ser Bronn spoke up. "A dead...dragon?"

Davos nodded in agreement, and Bronn looked at Jaimie in disbelief, "You sneaky fucker. I avoided death with one dragon. Now I have to fight a dead one.

"Maybe not," Daenerys whispered, her eyes remained emotionless. "What if we stop it before it arrives here in Winterfell?"

"What do you mean by that?" Jaimie asked in disbelief.

"If we can attack them unexpectedly, we can kill Viserion before they can get the chance to retaliate." Daenerys chocked back a sob but continued to speak nonetheless. "If Viserion gets here, Winterfell will be lost forever. We can't let that happen."

"She's right," Jaimie nodded, considering more options, "The walls would be destroyed in seconds. There has to be a way to stop it."

"I can draw him away from the castle," Dany said solemnly. "Drogon and I will keep him at bay while you keep the fighting on the ground."

"No," Jon shook his head at the thought of her being near any danger. "I'm not letting you risk your life like that."

"We don't have a choice, Jon. If we don't act quickly, more people will die. I should be the one to let Viserion finally rest."

"No," Tyrion said. "While the fight is occurring, that should give you plenty of time."

"Time?" Daenerys' eyes squinted at her Hand. "Time for what?"

"To escape."

"No," Jon shouted angrily. "That's not happening."

"Exactly, I'm not some damsel in distress."

"No," A voice spoke up, and Jon looked up to see the concerned expression on Ser Jorah's face. "You're the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, which is why your safety is far more important."

"I am _the_ Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, which means that this is not either of your decisions to make. Mine, it is mine and mine alone. And I say that I fight!"

Jon looked at her, really looked at her, and couldn't help but smile softly at her stubbornness and her resilience. She had her mind made up, and there was no changing it. He knew better than anyone to argue with her. "Alright, then I come with you."

"Jon..."

"I come with you, and that's the last we're speaking of it."

"What?" Sansa and Arya exclaimed at the same time.

"I'm not leaving her alone. Wherever she goes, I go."

"It's the Night King you need to be concerned about." Bran's monotone voice spoke, his voice creating a chill in the air. "The Night King commands them all. If he falls, then they all fall."

"He'll never come out in the opening if that's true." Jaimie picked up quickly.

"He'll come for me," Bran whispered. "I'm what he truly wants."

"Why does he want you?" Sam asked. "What is he?"

Bran stared at him blankly, thoughts running rapidly in his mind. "He was a First Man who was captured by a tribe of the Children of the Forest. He's been connected to them for thousands of years. He wants revenge, and he wants to be free."

"Free?" Sansa whispered. "What do you mean by free?"

"The Children of the Forests' magic will no longer be able to contain him if I'm dead. He'll be difficult to defeat."

"So we send you down south, far away," Jon suggested, his chest tightening. The more they talked about strategies, the more it seemed real/

"We can't." Bran shook his head. "Even you did, he'd find me. We need to lure him in the open before his army destroys us all."

"You're talking about using yourself as bait, and that's not happening. End of discussion." Sansa argued, glaring at her little brother for even suggesting it.

"It has to be me, Sansa," Bran said, almost giving her a sad smile for what had to be done. "I'm the only one who can stop him."'

"What are you talking about?"

"Valerian steel and dragon glass won't be able to stop him if I don't live past the Long Night. We must stop him while I live."

"I'll protect you," Theon's voice arose, his eyes landing on Bran's. "I took this castle from you, allow me to defend you now." Bran stared at him for a few moments but then nodded solemnly.

"There's still the matter of the people's safety," Daenerys stated.

"I know we said the crypts were safe, but listening to Bran..."

"I agree," Jaimie nodded, giving Jon a stern look. "We have to evacuate women and children immediately."

"Highgarden," Ser Bronn nodded quickly. "We could use the Iron Fleet to evacuate the castle and take them there."

Jaimie gave him a slightly shocked look as he said, "That's...not a terrible plan."

"Don't look so fucking surprised. I'm not a total dick. Plus, it gives me a reason to flee this damn ice." Bronn shook his head, crossing his arms.

"The rest of us will hold them off for as long as we can," Davos stated.

"When the time comes, Ser Davos and I will be on the walls, to give you the signal to light the trench," Tyrion said to Daenerys.

"Ser Davos is perfectly capable of waving a torch on his own," Daenerys said, her voice firm. "You will leave to Highgarden as well."

"Your Grace, I have fought before, I can do it again." Tyrion protested. "Alongside the men and women who are risking their lives. I don't have a right to do anything less than them."

Dany stared at him, questionably for a moment, pondering on what she should do, "Are you sure?"

Tyrion nodded, "I'll give it my all; I swear it."

"You will not only give it your all," She nodded curtly. "You'll live and continue to give me your wisdom."

"The dragons should give us an edge in the field," Davos stated, steering the conversation back to the plan.

"If they're in the field, they're not protecting Bran. We need to be near him. Not too near, or the Night King won't come. But close enough to pursue him when he does." Jon said.

"Can dragon fire stop him?" Arya asked.

"I don't know, no one's ever tried," Bran said, his tone remained expressionless.

"We're all going to die," Tormund said as his cheerful eyes reached Lady Brienne's. She stared back at him, feeling a pleasant, yet uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. "But at least we die together."

Her mouth gaped slightly at words but stayed silent nonetheless.

"We should all get some rest," Jon said to dismiss the council.

Everyone cleared the room, leaving Dany and Jon with Tyrion and Bran. Her fingers laced through his as she looked at him with a worried expression plastered on her beautiful face, "I'll see you in a bit, okay?"

"Of course," Jon gave her a weak smile, and she left as well.

"When will you tell everyone?" Bran's voice said from behind him, a question they both knew he was asking.

"When the war is won," Jon turned around and faced him, "This is the least important thing to be worried about."

"Are you certain, Jon?" Bran's head tilted slightly, asking another question they both understood. "This will upset thousands of people."

"The vision," Jon whispered. "Of the girl with Dany and me. Was that...the future?"

Bran wanted to say no, he did. But he couldn't stop himself from showing him the vision. He deserved to know the truth, and now he knew. There was something more that he had to fight for. Another life that was apart of him and apart of her.

"Yes."

Jon swallowed hard, afraid to ask the next question, "Does she know?"

Bran shook his head, "I gather she doesn't, but it will be known."

Jon felt like he was losing control of his breathing.

"A child..."

"The next heir to the Iron Throne, yes." Bran nodded.

Aryanna, named after two women beside Dany that meant everything to him. He never met his mother, but he knew that she would love him. She did love him. She gave her life for him to be here. She gave him to her brother to make sure that he was always protected. And he loved her for that, he truly did. It gave him the courage to do what had to be done next.

"Then I choose Dany. It will always be her."

Bran's lips curled up to a slight smile as if he was giving Jon his approval. It was rare to see Bran smile nowadays, or ever. "Then I wish you both happiness for as long as you both shall live. Do what your heart desires."

* * *

Jon's eyes looked at the statue of Ned Stark, preparing himself for what he was about to do. He was letting go of everything. He was letting go of his fear, hate, anger, and burying it here so that he could move on with no regrets. He needed this. He needed her. But he had to free himself, free himself from everything that caused him hurt and agony, even his father.

"Everything he did was for you, Jon," Sam's voice said from behind him.

"I didn't ask him to do that," Jon whispered, "My life would be so different now if I knew what I know now."

"You probably wouldn't be here to have this conversation, Jon." Sam clapped his hand on Jon's shoulder, staring at the statue with him. "He seemed like an honorable man."

"Then, why do I think differently?"

"Maybe it's your heart," Sam looked at his friend, "What's your heart telling you?"

Jon looked at his mother's statue, the woman he never met. Then his father's, the man who made him who he was today. And realized that there was one thing they both had in common. They did what right in their hearts, no matter the consequences, no matter what others would think. And that's what he would do until the end of his days

"To follow it."

"Follow it where?" Sam pressed.

"To home, to Dany."

"Are you sure about her, Jon?" He asked, putting a firm grip on his shoulders. "I don't want you to do something you'll regret."

"I love her, and she loves me. I know it's not right to others, but not everything isn't about what's convenient for others. It's about what you feel and what you want in your heart. She's my home, my family. Everything I am and have. I need that, and I need it forever."

Sam sighed but still gave him a weak smile, "It seems your mind is made up."

"It is."

"Well, you're my friend Jon. The best friend I'll ever have, so whatever you decide, I'll support you."

Jon smiled back and wrapped Sam in a brotherly embrace. Even after all these years, he was still his best friend. No matter how he felt about Daenerys, he was willing to overlook his feelings for Jon's sake. He couldn't have asked for a better friend or a brother.

"Thank you, Sam."

"Of course."

"So, what will you do?"

He looked down at his feet, bashfully before his eyes reached Jon's again, "I'll be going to Highgarden with Gilly and Little Sam."

"That's good," Jon clapped his shoulder. "They need you. They need you to protect them."

"You don't think it's cowardly?"

"It doesn't matter what I call it," Jon shrugged. "As long as you think it's the right thing to do."

Sam pondered for a moment before saying, "It is."

"Then, it's not cowardly."

Sam's smile grew extensive at Jon's words, "Thanks, Jon."

"Anytime."

He gave Jon a curt nod before making his way out of the crypts. But before he could turn the corner, a thought immediately popped into Jon's head.

"Sam!" He yelled, making him stop in his tracks, "I need you to do something for me."

* * *

The sound of the door knocking made Daenerys jump, "Your Grace, it's me, Missandei."

"Come in."

She walked in with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "Jon wishes to see you in the Godswood tree."

"Is something wrong?" Daenerys asked anxiously, looking at Missandei worriedly.

"Only one way to find out," She smiled before closing the door without saying another word.

_What was that all about?_

The woods were dark, silent, and cold, besides the torches that gave little warmth and little light.

"Okay, what are we doing here?" Daenerys asked Missandei.

"You'll see," Missandei said. She looked rather pleased with herself too.

When they got down to the desired spot, Daenerys' lips turned into a small grin. At the end of the path, standing by the enormous tree, wearing a huge smile was Jon. Sam was standing beside him, waiting for her to arrive near them.

She didn't even notice Tyrion was beside her until he wrapped her arm around his and started walking with her.

"What are you doing?" Daenerys asked incredulously.

"I'm giving you away, of course." He smiled slightly.

She was too stunned to protest, so she let him lead her down to the man she loves without hesitation.

"Jon, what's going on?"

"I'm doing what my heart commands for once in my life. I'm ready to be the man you need me to be."

"Jon…" She was so overwhelmed that she didn't know what to do.

"Marry me, Dany. Become my wife tonight."

She looked around at the setting, at the beautiful blue flames from the lamp that provided small warmth under an ancient yet glorious tree. And right in front of her was the man she loved, the ruler of her heart, the man she wanted to spend the rest of her days with.

"Yes," Daenerys answered without hesitation.

"As you wish, Your Grace." Sam nodded.

Jon took her hands in his. Sam stood before them, and that's when she realized he was serving as their minister. Daenerys looked at Jon, and he gave her a reassuring nod, letting her know that he trusted his best friend dearly.

"Now," Sam began, "Who comes to gives away Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen…"

"Lord Tyrion of House Lannister," Her Hand nodded respectfully at Jon before releasing his grasp on her arm.

Sam's eyes reached Jon's, "Who comes to claim her?"

"I do." Jon faced her, his eyes burning a hole into her soul.

'By _the gods, we're really doing this...'_ Daenerys thought.

"Very well," Sam nodded. "In the sight of the Seven, I now seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words."

Jon and Daenerys faced each other once more, and the words came out quickly, "Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger." Sam wrapped a blue ribbon around their clasped hands as they spoke.

"I am his."

"And she is mine."

Daenery's eyes began to water as she looked into Jon's eyes that were filled with love and admiration, "From this day.

"Until the end of my days."

"You may now seal this marriage with a kiss," Sam said. Jon smiled and cupped Daenery's face in his hands. His lips landed on her cheeks, kissing her tears away before they finally landed on hers. She pulled Jon close and kissed him thoroughly, and he returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm. Jon pulled back and leaned his forehead against hers.

"Congratulations, Khaleesi," Missandei said as Tyrion clapped beside her. Then they were gone, and Daenerys was left alone with Jon amidst the ancient tree. She was wrapped in his arms, and they were…

"Is this real? Are we married?"

Jon smiled. "Yes, it is. You're my wife, Dany."

Wife. Seven hells, she loved how that sounded. "But what does that make you?"

Jon sighed but kept his same smile, "Aegon Targaryen doesn't sound bad."

Dany brushed the pad of her thumb against his jawline then up to his lips, "No, but I like Jon better."

"Oh?"

Daenerys nodded, "I fell in love with Jon, not Aegon."

"Jon Targaryen, it is."

She kissed him chastely, "Your family won't like that."

"It doesn't matter," His arms snaked around her waist, placing a subtle hand flat on her belly. "You're my family as well, and now, you're my wife."

"And that will never change."

* * *

As soon as they arrived back to the king's chambers, she had her arms wrapped around his neck, breathing everything in Jon Targaryen. This was real. He was real. They were a sweaty mess of tangled limbs and mingled juices. Jon got his breathing under control a lot quicker than she did. They had just finished pleasing each other, milking each other for all of their energy. He gave her a sexy smile and kissed his wife hungrily and thoroughly.

Jon sprawled next to her face up, his chest heaving from exertion. Daenerys felt sated and lethargic, blissfully unaware of anything but the two of them in their bedroom.

Daenerys hugged the furry pillow to her chest and looked over at Jon. His eyes were closed, but he had a satisfied, content smile on his face. Dany bit her lip as she took him in, blushing at all the antics they had been up to for the past several hours. She could barely feel her legs. They had attacked and devoured each other countless times. They were like animals. And they couldn't seem to get enough of each other.

Daenerys leaned up on her elbows to get a better look at him. She could feel the heat radiating off of his skin. Her body tingled, craving more of his touch. She felt as though she was always sated but never quite satisfied. She wanted everything from him, and then she wanted more. She was obsessed. His breathing slowed, and she knew he was resting. She almost felt sorry for him. Here he was, the 'King in the North,' and she had nearly milked him of all his energy.

With that in mind, her eyes wandered over his naked skin unabashedly. His messy hair matted to his forehead. His chest that was littered with scars glistened with sweat that was perfumed with his creamy, manly musk. Her body stirred in response to the visual stimulus in front of her, especially when her eyes paused south of his hips.

"You keep staring at me like that and I'm gonna have to do something about it, my queen,"

"I'm just enjoying the show."

He chuckled, his voice low and husky. "Don't worry; you can drink me in all you want." And then his eyes opened and met hers.

Daenerys got lost in their warmth and blurted out, "I hope I can wake up to this face every morning."

Jon looked confused and taken aback for a moment before smiling softly, "You get to see this face for the rest of your life, as long as you'll have me."

"There's no question about that."

He laughed and relaxed back into bed; only this time, he pulled her towards him so that she could rest her head on his chest. He was quiet for a while, content to stroke her hair. After some silent contemplation, he sighed deeply and said, "You know there might be a chance we might..."

"Don't." She stopped him. "Don't even finish that thought."

"I can't help but think of anything else." Jon lifted her hand and brushed his lips against it. "I have so much to lose now."

And then his eyes subtly looked down at her barely-there belly and closed his eyes tightly, "I have _everything_ to lose."

Without warning, Daenerys departed herself from Jon's arms and went through their piles of clothes to find her corset. She felt his eyes raking over her body as she saw what she was looking for.

She walked back to the bed and placed the ring in the palm of his hands.

"What is it?" He asked, scrutinizing it.

"It's the ring of Aegon Targaryen," Daenerys explained, taking the ring out of his palm and slid it onto his finger. "It's meant to be worn by the true ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. But I want this to mean something more to you. I want this sigil to remind you that you're a Targaryen and that we have so much to fight for, to live for."

"Dany, I..."

Her stomach turned just thinking about what Jon was feeling right now. He felt weak yet strong. Ready, but unprepared. There were so many emotions that even he could barely understand. She reached up to caress his cheek, and he covered her hand with his own. "You'll always have me with you, Jon. No matter what. We'll get through this, I promise."

"I love you with everything in me."

"Jon..."

"I can't lose you. I _won't_ lose you..."

Daenerys couldn't find the words to speak, so she just leaned up and kissed his jaw softly before laying her head on his chest.

"You'll never lose me," Daenerys whispered mostly to herself and clutched their intertwined hands around her waist, "I'll always be with you."


	5. IV.| A New Hope.

"Have you ever heard of the story of the 'Lone Knight?" Daenerys whispered, her lips brushed against a scar on Jon's chest. She kept her eyes closed as she and Jon stood near the window, swaying with her naked body against his, entangled by the silky sheets. They made love for hours until the fresh glow of the full moon turned into the light of the setting sun. It was beautiful, and they were beautiful together.

"Pieces of it," Jon smiled a little, his eyes closed as well. "Though I don't know all of the details. Think you can fill in the blanks?"

Daenerys smiled as well before pulling him closer, "He was a bastard, legitimized for a noble House. He was a good man, and the people loved him, respected him, cherished him. They believed he was the greatest swordsman that ever lived, and they believed that he would be the one to set them free from the war that was among them, that he would protect them always."

Jon leaned back slightly to look at her, "He sounded like a decent man."

"He was," Daenerys' smile saddened a little. "But then he fell in love."

"What's wrong with that?" His hands glided against the flesh of her hips, making her breath hitch.

"Fear." She wrapped her arms around Jon's neck. "It can be a dangerous thing when you're in love."

"What happened to him?"

"He fell in love with a woman who was on the wrong side of the war, his enemies side. But he didn't care. He needed her like he needed air. Nothing else mattered. Without a second thought of the consequences, he married her. And then soon, she was to have his child. Though they were both worried that this might expose their secret, the man was thrilled and told her not to worry, saying that it was the happiest moment of his life."

Jon swallowed hard but continued to let her speak.

"But his happiness was marred when he suffered a nightmare of his wife dying in childbirth. Although his love tried to comfort him that it was only a dream, he was terrified that he would lose her. She told him that death was a natural part of life, and to let go of all that he was afraid to lose. But he could not accept that. He loved her too much."

"What did he do?"

"A dark witch of his house seduced him and said that there was a spell that could help him keep the ones he loved alive. She told him he needed the blood of his enemies, death to save a life. And desperately, he listened to it. The witch needed him to infiltrate their castle and slaughter them all. And he did. He killed the men, women, babes, animals, all of them. To protect his wife from dying."

"By the gods..." Jon whispered.

"With the help of his army, he raided more villages and homes and continued his genocidal deeds, not knowing that he was changing on the inside. But as he was away, his wife gave birth to a beautiful, healthy little girl. And as he predicted and feared, his wife died at childbirth. When he returned home, he was heartbroken and wracked with guilt and agony. He immediately sent her to the witch, only to find out that he had been tricked and lied to. Used as a pawn to win the war."

"And then?"

Dany sighed deeply, "Blinded by rage and guilt, he butchered the witch and then later his entire house while they slept. He then hung himself and left his daughter, orphaned. Thus, the tragedy of the "Lone Knight" continues to be told until the end of time."

"Well, that certainly kills the mood," Jon bent down and kissed the revealing part of her shoulder, making her chuckle lightly.

"It's not to kill the mood," Daenerys rolled her eyes with a smile playing on her lips. "It's just...an incentive, really." Her eyes looked up at him as she cupped her lover's face in her hands. "I don't want you out there to be a hero, Jon."

"Someone has to be."

"Not you," She shook her head, pressing her forehead against his. "Not you."

"Dany..."

She places her head onto his chest but continues to sway slightly with him to their rhythm, "I've only known one other love in my life. And he was one of the bravest men I met, and he died for heroics. And it cost me everything. I refuse to lose you as well."

Losing Drogo had scarred Dany in a way that she tried to forget. It changed her life really, and not a day goes where she doesn't remember that moment he left her. And now she has married another and could follow the same fate. She couldn't accept it. She would not lose Jon to a war when they had so much to look forward to.

"I'm right here, Dany. I'm right here." Jon buried his face in the crook of her neck, pulling her closer to him. "Besides, if I die, it's most likely I'll be brought back just for you to kill me again."

Surprisingly, a laugh escaped her lips, and Jon couldn't help the smile that reached his, "You did not just say that."

Jon pulled back to see her smiling at him. He moved his hand to her forehead to brush a strand of hair from her eyes, "I did. I just wanted to hear that beautiful laugh. I've missed it."

Her smile widened as she leaned into his touch.

"This is how I'll remember you." Jon whispered, leaning in to place a soft kiss on the junction of her neck, "Smiling, laughing." He kissed up a little higher until he reached the corner of her lips. "My beautiful wife. My queen."

"Jon..." she breathed, holding her husband close. "Don't, please. Don't say things like that."

"Tomorrow isn't promised for anyone, Dany," Jon pressed his forehead against hers once more. "You are the love of my life, and I will continue to tell this until my dying breath..because one day, I might not be able to tell you."

Her eyes were now glassed over with tears as she places her hand to his cheek. "I never thought that I would ever feel anything close to this again. But you..you have changed my life so much. And I would not be the woman I am today without you and..." Her voice trailed off before she could continue. "We'll win, we will win this war. And everything will be OK."

Jon's eyes focused on her belly, knowing that a child was growing inside the woman he was desperately in love with. He couldn't even comprehend the emotion that overwhelmed him when he found out. It was something he never thought of growing up. Jon never wanted a child; it wasn't in him to do so. But now, knowing there was a child apart of him and her, that would be born of pure, noble blood and not a bastard... He couldn't help but feel just a bit excited about what was to come. It only made him want to fight even harder for what was his. His family, his love, his heart.

His hand hovered over her barely-there belly and sighed deeply, "I hope it's a girl..."

Her breathing hitched slightly as she moved her hands to ghost over his, "You know, don't you?" He smiled sadly and nodded. Dany closed her eyes and pulled him impossibly closer. "I don't want to die, Jon..."

"You're strong, Dany." A tear slid down her cheek, and he kissed her crown, soothing her as best as he could. "We're strong. We can get through this."

"Just come back to me." She whispered. "I can't do this without you by my side."

"I'll be with you, my love. Always."

She hummed contently, laying her head on his shoulder, "Good."

And for now, that was enough. Having her husband, the father of her unborn child by her side, it was enough. She just only hoped it was enough for him to come back home to her.

* * *

"What in the seven hells do you mean she's late?" Arya exclaimed at Missandei, who was wearing a teasing smile.

"My Queen is rather...occupied at the moment." She sighed thoughtfully, remembering the beautiful night she had. It was a wonderful ceremony, and it warmed her heart to see her Queen find true happiness. It had been so long since she's seen a real smile on her face, and it was a magnificent sight to behold. Missandei could only hope that her happiness would continue after this was all over.

If they got that far...

"Well, that's disappointing," Arya sheathed her sword. "I wanted to clobber her today."

"She'll be here soon."

"Well, in the meantime, you can make yourself useful and get these supplies together."

"We will help," Grey Worm nodded curtly from behind Missandei. They were gathering supplies for the people's journey to Highgarden. Most of the people were evacuating the castle today so that they wouldn't get caught in the crosshairs of the battle. It was sad, honestly. People had to leave their homes, from everything they've known for a war that they had no control over. But hopefully, they could come back and move forward with their lives. That's all anyone can do really/

Arya knew what had to be done, and she had to be reliable. For her people. Fear was a weakness, and it was something that could take over your entire body and manipulate your motives. It would not get her, Arya was sure of it. She would do whatever it took to win this war, no matter what it would cost, and that was a promise.

Missandei strayed away from Arya and Grey Worm before making her way to Ser Davos, who was serving meals to the people before their departure. Missandei was starting to get comfortable here. There were some sideways glances now and then, but they were slowly beginning to get used to her. Children no longer ran when she walked by; men stopped glaring when she entered a room. She showed most that she was kind and that her queen was generous as well. They weren't monster to be feared. They only wanted to help, and the people were starting to see that.

"Which way should I go?" A frail voice asked politely.

Ser Davos and Missandei looked up to see a young girl with half of her face scarred and battered. Davos swallowed hard as the ghost of his past began to creep from the back of his mind, a reminder of what he had lost and what could never return to him. It still didn't stop him from remembering, from reminiscing of the little girl that he treated like his princess.

Missandei smiled sadly before asking her, "Where would you like to go, little one?"

"On the field with the brave men and women like my brothers." She said solemnly, a hint of fierceness in her tone. "I want to help."

Arya and Grey Worm made their way to them with an additional member by their side.

"That's good to hear," Gilly said with a soft smile playing on her lips. "My son and I are leaving soon as well. It would mean a lot to me if you would protect us on our trip there. You think you can do it for me?"

"It would mean a lot," Ser Davos chocked on words, giving the young girl a shaky smile. The girl contemplated her choices for a moment before she nodded once more and gave them a stern look.

"All right," she said. "I'll protect you and your son."

Davos handed her the bowl, and the girl left without another word.

"Fierce one that girl is," Arya sighed. "She'll do just fine."

"I hope so," Ser Davos sighed, letting the ghosts rest for a bit.

Missandei beamed when she felt Grey Worm's hand on her waist, and her heart sped up from his presence. It was an unspoken feeling that she felt when he was around, and she loved it. She loved him.

"My Missandei, I am loyal to my queen. I will fight for her until her enemies are defeated, but when the war is over, and she has won… Do you want to grow old in this place?"

The question caught her off guard, and it slipped off the tip of her tongue, her words forgotten.

"Is there nothing else you want to do, nothing else you want to see?" He pressed.

"Home at Naath." She sighed, remembering the bittersweet moments she spent there. "I'd like to see the beaches again."

Perhaps, if any place would allow her to be the girl she'd once been, before all this, it would be her idyllic homeland.

A half-smile curved one side of Grey Worm's mouth, and he nodded curtly. "Then I will take you there, my love."

Missandei smiled at her love's eyes and cupped his cheek with her gloved hand, "My people are peaceful. We cannot protect ourselves."

"My people are not peaceful. We will protect you." Grey Worm replied solemnly, and that only made her smile more.

She wanted that. She yearned for it. And maybe it was time. Once the Queen sat on the throne, once she was in a good place, she would go back home and live out the rest of her days with the man she loved. And that didn't seem so bad to her at all.

Suddenly a howl ripped through the air, and everyone's attention averted to the front gate. Ghost stood there, proud and strong with his head averted down the narrow path. Arya dropped the supplies on the wagon and walked to the front gate to stand by Ghost's side. She remained silent as well, waiting for something to happen. And then, through squinted eyes, she saw it. Over the snowy hills that surrounded the castle walls, figures loomed by the area. Direwolves lined up in a straight line. And in harmony, they all howled, and Ghost followed.

Arya's lips parted when she saw a wolf stray from the pack and make her way down the path. A small crowd formed around them as the wolf stopped in front of Ghost. Without hesitance, she nuzzled her nose against his, letting a row grumble erupt from Ghost's chest. Arya sensed the emotion between the two wolves, oddly enough. She was his lover, his mate, and she found it strangely amusing.

Another grumble made Arya look down to see another female dire wolf staring at her. A strange feeling washed over Arya, and she couldn't help but bend down in front of her. She looked at the wolf with the same intensity and squinted her eyes. And within a few moments, she knew. Arya knew that it was Nymeria, her best friend that would protect her when the time was right. Arya sighed and leaned her forehead against her wolf's, surprised when she did the same thing as well.

"Welcome home, Nymeria."

* * *

Jaime made his way across the courtyard of Winterfell, watching the Unsullied dig trenches and set up catapults behind them out beyond the wall. He hummed in satisfaction as he watched them also train. It amazed him how there training was so superb and elite, they could take on any army if they indeed willed it, and with the Dothraki by their side, they were practically invincible. He was just glad they were on his side for a change, for now at least.

"It's good to see you, Ser Jaime," A voice said from behind him to reveal Podrick looking back at him with a small smile playing on his lips.

"And you, Podrick," Jaime nodded back, returning a small smile of his own. He had come a long way from being a simple squire. Podrick was now a man and a good one at that. "I haven't had the chance to speak to you since I've arrived. I hope all is well."

"It's been a bumpy road, but nothing Lady Brienne and I couldn't handle," Podrick confirmed, making Jaime's smile widen even more. He couldn't help but admit that he missed Lady Brienne. How could he not? She was an essential part of him, he was different around her, and it was for the better. She made him see things clearly, things he knows he should have seen, and makes him question everything he's ever known. And she saw the good in him, something he didn't see in himself. Brienne believed in him, and he was in awe of for that.

"How has she been?" Jaime asked.

"You can ask her that yourself," Podrick nudged his head in front of him. With her back towards them, Brienne stood firmly in the yard, her eyes moving all across the field. Her hands clutched onto her sword tightly. Jaime took a deep breath as a lump formed in his throat. He had never seen anything so calm, yet so beautiful at the same time.

"Good luck, Ser Jaime," Pod gave him a crooked smile. "Until we meet again."

Jaime's eyes lingered on her for a small moment before he took a deep breath, "Here goes nothing."

Brienne turned her head slightly to see him striding towards her, watching as he smiled nervously at her.

"Ser Jaime," She greeted first.

"Lady Brienne," He gave her a slight bow of his head.

She hummed in a low tone, wondering if he was mocking her or not. Even to this day, she still couldn't tell if someone was flattering her or mocking her. Maybe she would never be able to tell the difference.

"I've seen your work on your hand" She started. "You look like you could use some assistance."

Jaime frowned, almost of embarrassment, "It could use some work."

She frowned as well, realizing what the statement was doing to him, "That was unworthy, I didn't mean it like that."

"Mean it like what?" He pressed, deciding to tease her.

"I was only suggesting that I could help you with your troubles before the battle comes. But if you don't want to, I..." She stammered with her words, feeling the heat flush against her cheeks. Realizing that he was on the verge of laughing at her, she bumped his shoulder with hers and rolled her eyes. "You haven't changed one bit."

"I can say the same thing to you as well."

"I suppose you can."

Brienne's lips parted when he noticed the way he looked at her. Her heart was practically beating out of her chest. The way he looked at her, the way he made her feel like she was the essential thing in the world to him, there was no better feeling than that. If she were to lose him...lose that feeling. Brienne immediately perished the thought and moved on to other things.

"You shaved again."

"Nice of you to notice." He told her.

"Kind of hard not to."

He smiled again, taking her words as a compliment. It was hard to come by with Brienne; he would take anything from he could get from her.

"I was hoping I could fight under your command," His smile widened as he watched the shock appear on her face. "If you'll have me."

She swallowed hard, and she could see in his eyes that his words spoke true. Her heart swelled with pride that he wanted to follow her into battle and their possible deaths. If the end was to come, she was glad he would be by her side to see it through.

"I would be honored, Ser Jaime."

He smiled at her once more before bowing his head to her and heading off to the courtyard.

Brienne smiled a rare smile as she watched him walk away, "Don't die on me, Jaime."

* * *

Sansa's head jerked up to see Theon standing in the doorway of her chambers.

She stood up, nodding politely in his direction. "Theon."

"Lady Sansa." He gave her an uneasy smile as he bowed his head at her. "Would you like to go with me for a walk?"

She was puzzled by his request but nodded in agreement, following him down the hall and out of the castle. She was halfway down the stone steps of the foyer when she lost her footing and fell. Before she could hit the ground, she felt strong arms wrap around her waist, holding her up. Her cheeks were crimson, as she was embarrassed to find herself in this familiar position.

"Thank you," Sansa whispered.

Theon abruptly dropped his hands to his sides and mumbled a barely coherent, "Of course, Lady Sansa. You're welcome."

They walked towards the bridge of the castle. Theon couldn't help but notice how the fire of the torches was highlighting her perfect features with sparkling light. Her beauty was astounding, and he was in awe. They were silent for several minutes, neither one of them knowing exactly where to begin. Sansa seemed to be waiting for Theon to speak, so he dove right in.

"I just wanted to take you away from stressful things, my lady." He began, his gaze lingering on the courtyard. "You seemed like you could have used a break."

"I did, thank you." She smiled at him weakly. "It's been...trying. It's..."

"Queen Daenerys."

"Yeah, _her_ ," Sansa sighed. "It's just... how people put her on this pedestal, idealizing her as perfection. It's nauseating."

"Right, just how most people used to look at you." Theon pointed out, and that made even more upset at how he was right.

"I know I'm not perfect. I've made mistakes. I've been selfish, rash, stubborn, and I've hurt the people I love. And I can be reckless and selfish, and...I guess that's why I hate her so much.." Her gaze dropped to the front gate to see her once again training in the yard with Arya. Slight shock crossed her features when she saw dire wolves by the front gate, continually roughhousing without care. It has been years since she's seen a dire wolf besides Ghost. It was quite refreshing, really.

Arya and Daenerys were swinging their swords as Jon watched her proudly from behind his queen. She was a lot better than she was yesterday. Daenerys was a quick learner, and Sansa could tell. She was a force to be reckoned with.

"She's not perfect either," He nodded in agreement. "But she's a good woman."

"You almost sound as if you admire her," Sansa said, a hint of jealousy in her tone.

"Admire? No. But I respect her as a woman who's trying to make the world a better place. Who's a good leader," He confessed before his gaze was back on her. "But, I admire you."

His words caught her off guard as she felt his gaze burn a hole in her soul.

"You admire me?"Sansa asked, making sure he truly spoke those words.

"I remember when we were children," His lips twitched in an almost smiling manner. "You said that you wanted to grow up, marry a prince, and have a thousand babes. And it's funny because I barely remember that girl. Now, all I can see is this beautiful, headstrong girl who will do anything to protect her people. And that should be something to admire at least."

Sansa felt tears forming in my eyes at his kind words. She hated how that made feel her weak. She was strong. She needed to start acting like it. But she couldn't help but feel a little emotion at how those words made her feel.

"It's alright to cry, Lady Sansa." Theon smiled sadly as he wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. He held her like that for a moment until she whispered, "Did you mean that, truly?"

"With all my heart."

"I want to be happy for Jon, I do," She sighed, slightly pulling back from him. "But I just don't know how."

"You know," He sighed. "You've always known."

"But can I do it?"

"I believe you can."

She pulled back to see him staring at her lips, intently. His eyes were darkened with something that Sansa could barely comprehend. Knowing that he was staring too long, Theon sighed deeply and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Not one of passion or desire, but one of comfort. One that showed he would be there for her, always.

"Thank you, Theon." She smiled, her gloved hand touching his cheek. "For everything."

"Of course." He pulled away with a small shaky smile on his lips before leaving Sansa with her thoughts.

She looked back down at the happy couple again and couldn't help the small smile that reached her lips. They were now laughing and smiling, lost in their world. Sansa watched as Daenerys pulled him close with her arms around his neck. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw Jon's hand rested on her belly. It was clear that he wasn't aware of making such a telling gesture. Luckily, Sansa was the only one that noticed, and she knew she was interrupting a private moment.

"I will try, brother," She promised, watching his smile widen at the sight of his lover. "For you."

And for once, she knew her words were real.


	6. V.| Before The Fire.

The night was almost upon them as the sun was beginning to set. The wind was picking up a lot more hastily, and it was becoming a lot harsher with every passing moment. Jon knew what that meant. The Dead were closing in on them. He doesn't wait for the storm; he brings it. Soldiers were ringing up the ships with supplies at the moment, making sure that the people were evacuated as quickly as possible.

There was a moment where Jon would feel sad at the sight. People had to leave their homes, their families, and friends to prevent any harm coming to them. But there was a chance that most people won't see the people they love again, the people they care about. This could be the last time they ever see each other, and deep down, Jon knew that not everyone would be able to see past this war. But they would die a noble death, and that's all that mattered.

"Jon," he heard a voice say from behind him. He turned around slightly to see Sam and Gilly slowly approaching them. A small smile appeared on his lips as he quickly scooped Sam into a tight hug, holding back the emotions that threatened to let loose. He pulled back slightly and looked at his best friend, his smile saddening.

"Be safe, my friend."

"I believe I should be telling you that," Sam laughed a little. "It's not like I'm about to fight a hundred thousand dead people like you are."

"You have a family you have to protect," Jon nudged his head to little Sam and Gilly, who returned a smile of her own. "I respect that."

"And you don't?" Sam said in a hushed tone, giving his friend a concerned look. He could see how much Daenerys meant to him now, seeing that she was his wife now. He loved her. He was desperately, madly, and indeed in love with her. And Sam loved him as well, like a brother. He was his brother, and he wanted him to live. He would crumble if his best friend died again.

"We'll see each other again," Jon promised him. "Then, the drinks are on me."

Sam sighed deeply and wrapped his arm around his shoulders again, "You're the best friend I ever had."

"You too, Sam. You too," Jon replied, patting his back roughly.

"And about..." Sam nudged his head to Daenerys, who was walking across the courtyard, saying her farewells to Missandei. "What are you going to do?"

He smiled at the sight of his wife and watched as she pulled Missandei in for a tight embrace, "I'll be her king consort, and let her rule the Seven Kingdoms. As it should be."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Sam asked, making sure that his friend was making the right decision.

"I never wanted it," Jon shrugged, a sigh blowing past his lips. "The Seven Kingdoms deserve someone who knows what they're doing, who will give it their all to make the world a better place. And that's her. It's always been her."

Sam followed his gaze and couldn't help but feel happy for his friend. He knew what he had suffered, what he had lost. He had been through so much and made sacrifices along the way. He deserved this; he deserved to be happy. And he was going to be pleased for him. For both of them.

"Well, you know you have my support," Sam said with finality, looking back at Jon. He paused for a moment before pulling out a long Valerian steel sword from his hip. "Would you give this to Ser Jorah, if you see him? He'll need more than I will."

"Of course," He carefully took the sword and wrapped the pommel around his waist.

"I'll see you when it's over."

"I'll see you when it's over," Jon repeated, watching as Gilly made her way to him. He enveloped her in his arms and sighed, "Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid until he gets back."

"You know him. He can't help himself," They both laughed, watching as Sam gave them a look.

"I'm right here, you know?"

Before they could respond, Tormund and Ben wrapped Sam in a tight hug, sharing goodbyes of their own.

"Came to send me off, brother?" Jon heard a teasing voice behind him, making his lips twitch in slight amusement. He turned around slightly to see Sansa wearing the same smile playing on her lips.

"It would've been a cold day in Hell if I didn't give you a proper farewell," He moved closer to his sister, watching as Ghost sniffed her hands. She smiled lightly and bent down to wrap her arms around his neck, feeling him nuzzle against her cheek affectionately.

"I'll miss you too, boy," Sansa sighed, breathing in his invigorating scent. "Take care of him, alright?"

He grumbled lowly as if he understood what she was saying. She smiled as she stood up and faced her brother, her smile saddening.

"Did you say your goodbyes to Bran and Arya?" Jon asked.

"I did," she sighed, fiddling with her gloves, "It was...hard. But I'll see them again."

"You will," He nodded curtly. "We'll be back together before you know it."

Her smile faded as she saw Daenerys standing next to Grey Worm, who was still saying their goodbyes to Missandei. Sansa couldn't help the way she felt towards Daenerys, and she didn't think there would ever be a way for them to coexist like they didn't have issues. But she knew that Jon loved her, truly loved her. And she makes him happy; she would have to accept that.

"She makes you happy," She said suddenly, making Jon look at her surprised.

"What?"

"I've never seen you so...content." Sansa smiled weakly, holding her brother's hand. "She brings something out of you that I've never seen before."

Jon was surprised by her sudden change of heart. He knew that Sansa didn't care for his Queen, and that bothered him for quite a while. He wanted them to get along, for they were all going to connected soon. Their child... their child, was going to change everything. And he wanted Sansa to be apart of that change.

"She does," Jon whispered, smiling back. "I don't know what I am without her..."

"My brother," She stopped him before he could say more. "Family. You're our family always. And no matter what I feel about her, she comes with the package. I'll support you."

Jon couldn't find the words to express how he felt. He just pulled her into his arms and held her as if it were the last time. She accepted a new part of his life, and that was all he could ask of her for now.

"Stay safe, Jon."

"I will." He promised, watching her wipe the tears off her cheek.

"Damn you," she chuckled as she continued to wipe away her tears.

He smiled once more at his sister and nodded before walking to his wife, watching as her face lit up at the sight of him. Grey Worm nodded curtly to him, acknowledging his presence.

"My king..." She whispered, grabbing hold onto his forearm.

Jon just smiled at the sight of her and sighed, "I'm courting the most beautiful woman in the world."

Jon's encouraging words always brought her warmth and comfort. No matter what she thought of herself, he would still see the best in her. The good in her. She didn't see herself worth anything but someone to be feared. But Jon sees something more in her, and that's why she loved him more than anything in the world.

Daenerys subtly placed her hands over her belly and took a deep breath, "We'll see how you feel once I'm as big as a mountain."

"Can I… touch it?" he asked hesitantly, reaching his hand out for her stomach.

"You don't have to ask; this is your child as well." Daenerys took his hand and placed it over her dress, "There's a small bump. You probably won't be able to feel it."

Jon's eyes went wide. "Really? Already?"

She nodded vigorously. "I saw it not too long ago."

"Wow. I didn't notice that."

"My breasts are getting a little bigger."

"I did notice that." His eyes went right for them.

"I know you did." The smile on her face was starting to hurt, but she didn't care. She didn't care who saw them or who didn't. It was their moment and their moment alone, and no one could take that away from them.

"How are you feeling," Jon whispered as he pressed his forehead against hers.

"Better," she sighed, breathing him in. "Much better."

"You..."Grey Worm started, making Jon turn to face him fully. "You make my queen happy. You...bring her joy."

Jon couldn't help but smile at that. He and Grey Worm didn't always agree on things, but they both wanted what was best for Daenerys, and they understood each through that.

"And she does the same for me," Jon looked at her, his gaze filled with love and adoration. "I would die for her if I had to."

"Hopefully, it doesn't come to that," Daenerys' lips twitched in amusement, but there was a hint of worry in her tone.

"I will fight beside you, Jon Snow," Grey Worm vowed, placing his fist over his heart. "For our queen."

And for her, that was more than enough.

Jon nodded curtly, "For our queen."

From the other side of the yard, Varys and Tyrion were watching the scene with peaked interest. They watched as Jon held Daenerys in his arms, laughing at sweet nothings. They were lost in their world. They were so in love, and anybody could see that.

"King consort?" Varys asked, a hint of shock. "Why does he have to be so honorable?"

"He doesn't want the throne," Tyrion replied. "He never has. He knows that Daenerys will make a good queen."

"Let us hope so, old friend."

Tyrion eyed them intently, realizing how much has changed between the two of them. Jon was more guarded these days but still felt free. He was protective of his queen and would do anything for her. He was more aggressive. He didn't let anyone talk him out of anything and stuck with every decision he's made recently. Jon wasn't the same man that he knew; he was...different. But different in what way?

Tyrion noticed the way Jon gestured at Daenerys' belly, handling her with extreme care. The small lump that formed under her dress. Instead of speaking on it, he smirked to himself and let them have their private moment. He would talk to his Queen about the matter later.

"Don't worry, my cockless friend," Tyrion teased. "I think the Seven Kingdoms are in good hands."

* * *

The night was slowly approaching them, and everyone was on edge. They knew they were coming before the sun sets, but they were still feeling uneasy and unprepared for what was to come. But they were taking the time out to enjoy each other's company, to live for one last night possibly. Tyrion and Jaime were sitting by the fire in the dining room, drinking wine, and remembering when times were so much simpler.

"We were so foolish back then," Jaime sighed, his gaze boring into the flames.

"Still foolish now," Tyrion commented, smiling slightly. "We're about to die in Winterfell. Father would be most pleased."

Despite his words, he laughed slightly, "I'm sure he would."

Jaime smirked a little. "Do you miss it, the past?"

Tyrion sat back and pondered for a moment before saying, "A little. It reminds me that things weren't so bad compared to now."

"Makes you wish we didn't take so many things for granted." Jaime hummed in agreement, taking a sip of his wine.

Tyrion smiled as he raised his cup as well, sharing a drink with his brother for the time being. He didn't know when they were going to relax like this again, to enjoy each other's company. He would treasure it, knowing that this could be their last moment and that they were content for the time being. Their heads moved when they heard the door open, only to reveal a lovely sight for Jaime.

Jaime nodded politely, a smile tugging at his lips. "Lady Brienne."

She stopped abruptly with Podrick by her side and gaped at them, "Oh, apologies if we interrupted. We were looking for somewhere warm to..."

"To contemplate your imminent death." Tyrion smiled as well, making a gesture to the empty seats. "You've come to the right place." He got to his feet to refill his cup with wine at the small table.

"The wine's not bad, but it's not good either."

Pod smirked and made his way to the table, "I appreciate it, my lord."

"I don't think that's wise," Brienne said, her eyes glaring daggers at him. "The last thing you need is to be hungover for the battle to come."

Pod looked back at her and smiled wistfully, letting her know that he wasn't going to go overboard with it.

"Half cup." She eyed him, letting him know that she wasn't playing any games with him.

"And you?" Tyrion offered while filling Podrick's cup to the brim, giving him a subtle wink.

"No, thank you," Brienne politely denied. "I should try and get some sleep."

"You think any of us are going to sleep tonight?" Jaime asked, setting a chair beside him. "Join us, please."

"All right." Brienne sighed in defeat, her lips forming a tight line. She knew she couldn't deny him anything, no matter how stubbornly she tried not to. "Just a for a little while." Brienne took a seat, her discomfort slowly washing away. Jaime smiled at her, clearly pleased by his accomplishment. It was sporadic for them to agree on anything, so he was going to take this victory wherever he could.

"Well, what do we have here?" Ser Davos' voice was heard from the doorway of the dining room.

"Ser Davos, join us," Tyrion smiled at the sight of him.

"No, not for me, thanks," Davos said quickly, heading straight for the fireplace. "Came here for this. I figured I could wait to die freezing my balls off out there or wait to die nice and warm in here."

Tormund followed Davos in not too far before stopping by and looking at Brienne. He approached her slowly, watching her with slight amusement, "It could be our last night in this world, you know."

"Yes, well, I'm glad you're here," Tormund's eyes rose quickly in surprise, and Brienne promptly corrected herself, her cheeks reddening. "Here, fighting with us. Glad you survived Eastwatch."

Tyrion smiled, intrigued by the encounter. "Would you like a drink?" He asked Tormund politely.

Tormund shook his head, raising a horn filled with some strange liquid," Brought my own."

More footsteps followed, and it was one they were not expecting,

"Ser Bronn," Tyrion laughed in delight, surprised to find his old friend in their company again. "I thought you were going to Highgarden with the others."

He shrugged thoughtlessly and pulled a chair between the two Lannister brothers, "Aye, I was. But I couldn't leave you two fuckers behind. Not when I'm still owed a damn castle of my own."

Jaime raised an eyebrow at him, "Are you sure that's all why you decided to stay?"

Bronn looked at him and rolled his eyes, "Don't fucking start."

Jaime chuckled and clapped his free on his shoulder, "I'm glad you decided to stay."

Despite himself, Bronn smiled and

His gaze met Jaime's a few seconds later.

"They call you 'King Killer.'" Tormund nodded curtly to him.

"I'm sure someone does," Jaime replied, sneaking a glance at Brienne.

"They call me 'Giantsbane.' Want to know why?" He asked, sitting across him. Jaime leaned in, interested in where he was going with the conversation. "I killed a giant when I was 10. Then I climbed right into bed with his wife. When she woke up, you know what she did?"

No one answered."

"Suckled me at her teat for three months. Thought I was her baby." He explained. "That's how I got so strong. "Giant's milk."

Tormund grinned before he proceeded to chug his horn of ale. The others looked on, bewildered by the wildling's story. Brienne snuck a confused glance at Ser Jaime, who was looking back at her when she did. He smiled softly at her, and surprisingly, she returned a small smile of her own. Tyrion noticed the exchange and smirked at how happy his brother looked. It had been years since he's seen his brother content, genuinely delighted. He could only hope his happiness could surpass the war that was upon them. Jaime deserved it.

Bronn was smiling in amusement at Tormund's story, "I like this crazy cunt."

"Looks like I'll be needing that drink."Davos sighed, making his way to the table where the wine resided. It was going to be a long night.

Probably the last.

* * *

The Hound took another pull of his wine as he sat alone on the walls of the castle. He didn't enjoy other people's company, not really, especially before a battle. There was always a comfort in the loneliness to him, he couldn't explain it, and quite frankly, he could care less. If he were going to die, he would prefer it to be alone. His ear perked up the sound of footsteps and saw Arya and Gendry approaching him. She had a spear attached to her back as they both stared at each other for a moment. Nymeria stood guard by Arya's side.

"Mind if we join you?" Gendry asked as Arya just shrugged, but she was hoping he didn't refuse.

"It's not like I own the damn castle," He grunted, offering Arya his flask. She accepted. They sat on both sides of him and just took in the cold air. Arya took a long pull of it before passing it to Gendry. No one spoke; they just stared dully at the railing across them. Nymeria stared at Sandor for a moment, reading his every emotion and reaction. He could feel her doe-eyes on him, and he was getting annoyed.

"Will you tell that thing to stop looking at me?" Arya snuck a glance at him before smiling wickedly. She ran her hands through her fur, earning a low rumble from her chest. It felt good to have Nymeria in her grasp again. To be back at home where she belongs. Arya could only hope she doesn't slip through her fingers again. Once again, the air was filled with silence.

"Why are you two just sitting there like a pair of fucking mutes?" Sandor snapped, tired of the apparent silence. Arya laughed slightly at his anger, remembering the times he would randomly snap at her on their journey. It was rather strange times for both of them, but all of it wasn't so bad.

"And what exactly would you like us to say?" Arya teased.

Sandor shrugged and grunted, "Beats the damn silence; that's for sure."

After a small moment of silence, Gendry spoke up, "Do you think we'll live? Do you think we can beat them?"

They fell into a long silence.

"What kind of fucking question is that?" Sandor huffed.

"A reasonable one, if not a good one." Gendry bit back.

"I don't know," Arya whispered, looking up at the dark sky. "I hope we do. Why do you ask?"

Gendry sighed, leaning back against the cold wall, "I mean, there's still so much I haven't done yet, you know? I want to get married, have a child. Build a house by the sea. Just the small stuff."

Arya snickered a little, leaning back as well.

"What's so funny?" Gendry pressed, interested in what she had to say. "You have something you want to do, don't you?"

Arya shrugged, her hands running through Nymeria's fur again, "I already got everything I wanted. I don't need anything else, really."

"You don't see yourself being a mother someday."

"No, not really," She admitted. "I always saw myself as an aunt, maybe. To my sibling's children. If we survive past this night, it may happen."

Sandor sighed, shuffling around a bit, "Your brother might be a few steps ahead on that part. He's always undressing that silver-haired woman with his eyes."

"It was a lot worse at Dragonstone," Gendry chuckled. "They couldn't keep their eyes off of each other."

Arya joined in, a small smile hitting her lips, "I'm glad Jon has found someone. No one deserves to be happy no more than him."

The Hound turned his head, and quirked his left brow at her, "Do you trust her, the Dragon Queen?"

"I do."

Nymeria's head perched up at the approaching footsteps and relented when she noticed it was a friendly face approaching.

"The Lord of the Light has intertwined their destinies." Ser Beric stated, taking a seat across from them. "It is his will that they are here together."

"Oh, for fuck's sake." He complained, snatching the bottle off Gendry's hand and taking a pull from his wine. "May as well be at a bloody wedding."

"My lady," Ser Beric nodded curtly to her, but still respectfully. "It's good to see you again. I'm sorry we parted the way we did."

"Was he on your list?" The Hound asked.

"For a little while." She admitted, causing Nymeria to growl a little. Gendry smiled in amusement.

"That's all right," Beric raised an apologetic hand. "The Lord of Light has brought us together all the same. This is his moment. When light..."

The Hound cut him off. "Shut the fuck up will you before I chuck you over this damn wall."

Beric chuckled and reached out for the flask. After a moment, the Hound tossed it to him.

"I hope we do survive this," Gendry confessed, rubbing his hands together for warmth. "We all have one hell of a story to tell."

Arya looked at him, really looked at him and just smiled. She cared about him; she indeed did. Gendry made her feel something. He made her feel alive. She couldn't deny the feelings that were between them, and yet she knew that it could never be. What he wanted for himself, she could not give him. Arya didn't want children, and she didn't want to be a wife or a lady. That wasn't her, and it has never been. Still, it didn't mean that she didn't care for him. Or that she will ever stop caring for him.

"Yeah, me too," Arya whispered, leaning her head against Sandor's shoulder as she rubbed her hands through Nymeria's fur. His mouth opened to speak, to tell her to fuck off. But the words never came. A swell of pride hit his chest, and he sighed in defeat, reveling in her presence. And they all remained silent, waiting for the battle horns to call upon them.

* * *

"It's strange. Almost everyone here's fought the Starks at one time or another," Tyrion stated, the corned of his lips rising slightly. "And here we are in their castle, ready to defend it. Together."

"At least we'll die with honor," Brienne said softly. Jaime couldn't help but smile at her optimism. Even now, she still tried to find the bright side of things, especially when things weren't working in their favor.

"I think we might live," Tyrion said, hopefully.

Davos snorted, and Pod gave a subdued smile.

"Then you're dumber than I thought you were," Bronn snickered.

"I do." Tyrion pressed on. "How many battles have we survived between us?"

"Ser Davos Seaworth and Ser Bronn," He gestured to the both of them. " Survivors of the Blackwater. Also, the Battle of the Bastards for Ser Davos."

"All without a shred of combat ability," Davos stated, earning a grunt from Tormund.

"Ser Jaime Lannister, fabled hero of the Siege of Pyke." Tyrion continued.

"Fabled loser of the Battle of Whispering Wood," Jaime added, rising to refill his cup. Brienne's gaze followed him across the room, smiling softly at him. She couldn't help it nowadays. Brienne used to be able to hide her smile without a problem. Now, with Jaime's presence, it was beginning to become a job in itself, trying to hide it. Maybe one day, she'll smile freely without feeling like she shouldn't have to. That's what Jamie would tell her.

Oh, Jaime.

"Ser Brienne of Tarth." Brienne jumped slightly at the title, his words catching her off guard.

"Defeated the Hound in..." He stopped when he realized his mistake. "Pardon me, Lady Brienne."

"She's not a ser?" Tormund asked, confusion evident in his tone. "You're not a knight?"

"Women can't be knights," Brienne said.

"Why not?" He asked.

"Tradition." She shrugged.

"Fuck tradition." Tormund shrugged as well.

Jaime's hand froze on the handle of the mug, mulling over the words carefully.

"I don't even want to be a knight." Brienne lied, her gaze reaching Podrick's. He gave her a sympathetic look, knowing that her words were far from the truth. Podrick knew her better than almost anyone in the room, besides Jaime of course. He knew how much it would mean to her if she became a knight. It would mean everything, and everything was a lot. He could only hope that things would change in her favor one day,

"I'm no king." Tormund stated, leaning closer." But if I were, I'd knight you ten times over."

It was then something clicked in the back of Jaime's mind, "You don't need a king."

Brienne looked up at him, knowing exactly where this was going to go.

"Any knight can make another knight." Jaime set down his mug, "I'll prove it." He moved to the back of the room and gestured his hand to the open space, "Kneel, Lady Brienne."

Her breathing hitched at him for a split second before she scoffed in disbelief. He could sense her hesitance, her discomfort. But he knew she wanted this; she needed this. She needed this like she needed air, and Jaime knew she just needed a push.

"You can't be serious."

"Do you want to be a knight or not?" Jaime asked teasingly.

After a moment of contemplation, Brienne rose to her feet. She swallowed hard as her feet mindlessly walked her to Jaime. She stood in front of him, vulnerable and eager at the same.

"Kneel," Jaime commanded softly.

She did as she was asked, handing him Oathkeeper in the process. His hand grazed hers as he took the sword, earning a nervous grin from him. He rose the sword to her left shoulder before he spoke the words.

" _In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave.  
In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just.  
In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent."_

"Arise, Brienne of Tarth, a knight of the Seven Kingdoms," Jaime announced, watching her eyes lighten with pride. He couldn't help but be mesmerized by them as Brienne rose to her feet. She was beautiful to him, even when she didn't feel like she was. Even if she didn't know that he thought so, it was like they were both lost in their world, not caring about anything else. As if nothing else matters.

To break the silence, Tormund clapped soundly, and everyone quickly followed.

"Ser Brienne of Tarth!" Tyrion shouted. "Knight of the Seven Kingdoms!"

Bronn smirked as he nudged Podrick in the knee, "They're definitely gonna fuck now."

They all celebrated her success, laughing and joking until it died down. Now and then, Jaime and Brienne would sneak small glances to each other. It was the little things that made her care for him even more. Never had she met a man that made her feel this way. Jaime respected her on so many levels. He admired her as a woman and as a knight, and she appreciated him for that. She loved him for that... and he loved her as well.

"Well," Bronn sighed, standing on his feet. "Think it's about time we get some rest. Don't want these dead fuckers getting the drop on me."

"And we're out of wine," Davos sighed, sitting back at his seat.

"How about a song to pass the time?" Tyrion suggested. "One of you must know one. Ser Davos?"

"You'll pray for a quick death," Davos warned.

"Ser Brienne?" Tyrion smiled at her. She quickly shook her head.

He looked at Bronn, who shrugged, not caring at this point. Finally, Tyrion's gaze landed on Tormund, only to earn a grunt of denial from him. Tyrion sat back in defeat before Podrick's melodic voice filled the silence, gaining everyone's attention.

_"High in the halls of the kings who are gone, Jenny would dance with her ghosts..."_

And as Podrick sang, Jaime sneaked his golden hand on top of Brienne's; his lips twitched in a small smile. Her hand hesitantly ghosted over his before she laid it on top. They both looked at each other and spoke without words. They both knew what they wanted to say, and if they survive this, they will have the chance to do so.

* * *

Ser Jorah smiled sadly as he watched Daenerys look over the castle walls and into the darkness.

She was breathtaking to him, a real vision. She had come a long way from the first time he had met her. She was a woman, self-possessed. She knew herself; knew her beauty and charms. And that confidence had her shining like the brightest star in the sky. And he loved her, a part of him always will. But it wasn't meant to be.

In all the time that Jon and Daenerys had been together, Jorah never indeed saw them. It was always too hard to see them together, loving each other when he was so filled with jealousy and betrayal. He would see them differently. He would look at Jon with envy and disdain. And he would look at Daenerys longingly, yearning for the life that they could never have. But now, he saw them. He indeed saw them.

They were made for each other. It nearly killed him to admit, but he was happy that he knew now. They were beautiful. Jorah had never seen two people more in love. It was time for him to let go.

Jorah moved forward and stopped by the side of her, "Hello, Khaleesi."

She turned and smiled at him, making his heart skip a beat. "Hello, Jorah. It seems I'm not the only one who needed some air."

"I suppose not," He smiled softly. "I always like the quiet before a battle."

He stood by her side as they fell into an unwanted silence. Jorah sighed deeply, his next words weighing on him, "Lord Tyrion has informed me that you and Jon Snow are married."

She bit her lip nervously. "Jorah, I…"

"Are you happy?"

She smiled softly. "Yes, I am."

"Do you love him?"

"I do."

"Then, I'm going to stop feeling miserable for myself and start feeling happy for you."

She hugged him tightly, a sigh escaping her lips, "Jorah, that's all I've ever wanted for you. I've always wanted you happy."

He hugged her back, feeling as though it might be a long time before he shared another embrace with her. "I'll try to be for you, Khalessi."

"So, where are you going to tell everyone?" Jorah nudged his head to her barely-there belly. "About that."

Daenerys' brows furrowed. "Uh…"

"Tyrion told me that, as well."

"He wasn't supposed to say anything to anyone..." She sighed, rolling her eyes in the process.

"You have my silence," Jorah promised, and she looked at him with what she could only assume was pride.

"Well, to be honest, we don't know yet. I mean, with all the war planning and everything else, it just seems the least important at the moment.

"How are you feeling?"

"I feel wonderful. It's a little unnerving at times, but right now, I feel amazing."

"It shows."

"Thank you."

"My pleasure."

Jorah then saw Jon approaching, "I think your husband would like some time with his wife," Jorah said. He took her hand and kissed it. "Stay safe, Khaleesi." Before either of them could say anything, he turned and made his way off the castle walls.

"Ser Jorah," Jon called after him, making him turn. He walked towards him, taking the other sword pommel off of his hip. "It's Valerian steel. May it serve you well and battle."

He handed him the sword, his hands grazing against Jorah's in the process. As he wielded the sword, he looked at Daenerys for a moment before he glanced back at Jon.

"You must live, Jon Targaryen," He said lowly, baffling Jon. It was the first time anyone's ever called him that. It was a strange feeling, and yet an intriguing one. "You must live for her. She needs you. They need you."

Jon shook his hand and nodded curtly, "And she needs you as well. I'll see you when it's over."

Jorah smiled softly as he watched Jon walk back to Daenerys. She was married to a king, and Jorah was happy for her. She had found true happiness with someone else. Jorah loved his queen. He would never stop loving her. But he had to find another path, and he needed to learn how to love her differently.

"Everything alright?" She asked her husband, a brow quirked at him.

Jon cupped her chin and kissed her, chastely, "Everything is fine."

She rested herself against Jon's chest as his arms were wrapped around her waist. They looked at the dark while being in each other's arms. It was where they were the happiest, where they could forget about in the world and just be them. Jon and Dany. Jon smiled sadly, grimacing at the thought of this potentially being the last time he holds her in his arms. He loved this woman, no matter what. No matter his birthright or family generation, he was in love with her. He wanted to watch their child grow inside of her with each passing day. He wanted to wake up to her smiling face in the morning. But most importantly, he wanted her to live. And if him dying helps, he would do it in a heartbeat.

"I never noticed how pretty snow looks," Danerys whispered, leaning her head against his chest. "It's the little things you notice the most when you're about to face death."

"Truer words have never been spoken," Edd announced himself, joining them to watch the view. "And now, our watch begins."

"So it does," Jon sighed, his hands laying flat on her belly. Daenerys put her hands on top of his.

"I'm glad Sam is somewhere safe, away from the battle. I would've been worried about him," Edd confessed, sighing as well. "Don't tell the fucker I said that."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Jon chuckled, letting his chin rest on Daenerys' shoulder."

Edd looked at the married couple and just shook his head, "What do you see in him?" He said jokingly.

Jon chuckled despite himself. Daenerys looked up slightly and just gazed at him adoringly, "He's the love of my life. I owe him everything." He returned the gaze with equal admiration and laid a kiss on her forehead.

Edd smirked at that, finally satisfied that his best friend was happy. After all of the shit Jon was put through, he deserved some happiness.

"Well, just take care of him," Edd sighed. "You know how he gets."

"And what does that mean?" Jon quirked a brow at him.

"Don't worry," Dany stated, winking at Edd. "I know."

"You too?"

They laughed in unison for a few moments until a cold heavy breeze whooshed past them. Jon noticed it first, a familiar chill running down his spine. He saw the dull grayness in the sky, the fog that traced the snowy grounds. And then...the sounds of the battle horns blared in the air.

"Jon," Daenerys whispered."The dead are coming."

Jon swallowed hard, his grip on his wife growing tighter. "No, Dany. They're already here."


	7. VI.|An Endless Night.

_Perhaps if Death is kind, and there can be returning,_  
_We will come back to earth some fragrant night,_  
_And take these lanes to find the sea, and bending_  
_Breathe the same honeysuckle, low and white._

_We will come down at night to these resounding beaches_  
_And the long gentle thunder of the sea,_  
_Here for a single hour in the wide starlight_  
_We shall be happy, for the dead are free_

* * *

"It won't be long now," Theon whispered mostly to himself.

The cold wind blew past the Greyjoy soldiers in the Godswood, making them shiver in fear and anticipation. Theon gripped his spear tightly, ready for any signs of danger to approach. It was strange, being back here in Winterfell. After all of the pain and trauma he had caused, all of the pain and trauma that was inflicted on him. And now, he was back home, ready to defend it. It was good to be back for the right reason.

His gaze landed on Bran, who was staring off in the distance, a slim smile playing on his lips. Theon almost immediately frowned at him, memories of his troubled past flooding his mind. He betrayed him, he betrayed his family, and he could never get that time back. He could never tell Robb and Eddard how sorry he was for misplacing their trust in him. But he could start with Bran, and for now, that was enough.

He padded his footsteps to him, approaching cautiously, "Bran..."

Bran's gaze averted to him, allowing him to speak, "I just...I want you to know that..."

"It's alright, Theon," Bran smiled sadly. "It's alright."

"No, it isn't. I..."

Bran grabbed his hands and squeezed them gently, "It is. You've suffered too much to keep blaming yourself. Everything you've done has led you right where you belong. Home."

Theon shivered a little, his words impacting him in a way he didn't expect, "This hasn't felt like my home in a long time."

"But it is. And it always will be." Bran's smile widened. "Sansa's gonna need you when this is over."

Theon looked up at him, his expression now bashful, "I...I don't..."

"You love her," Bran stated, leaning back into his chair. "And she loves you. I need you to be there for her...for when this is over."

Theon was taken back by Bran's request. It was true that he loved Sansa. No woman has ever made him feel the way she made him feel. She was kind, and she was pure, unlike any woman he's ever known. He couldn't help but admire her for that. They had both been through hell by the hands of the same monster. And now it was his duty to make sure no harm came to her ever again.

Theon placed his fist over his heart and nodded curtly, "I'll protect her with my life. I swear it as Greyjoy...and I swear it as a Stark."

"Then you know what you must do," Bran nodded curtly, giving him a knowing look. Theon closed his eyes tightly before nodding in agreement. He didn't want to leave him behind, and he didn't want his people behind. He would still fight, of course, but he knew what Bran was trying to tell him. If he stayed there, he would die. And he had to live, for Sansa.

"I'll stay for as long as you need me."

"You're a good man. Thank you," Bran smiled at him one last time before his eyes went completely white. Little did Theon know that it would be the last time he would speak to Bran.

* * *

The cold wind grew harsher by the minute as each man stood vigilant, ready for what was to come. The men along the bridges of the wall readied their arrows as the men on the ground were preparing the attack. Trebchucets were set for launch, and they readied the manned fortifications. The leasers of their forces stood tall and strong. The dire wolves howled loudly in the air, letting their presence be known. They stood proudly on the side of the soldiers, baring their teeth at the enemy that was near.

It was here. It was finally here.

Arya, who was on the wall with her bow and arrow, noticed a figure approaching from the field. The hood covered their faces so she couldn't identify who it was. Davos moved closer to the Stark girl, and immediately realized who it was. Melisandre's gaze met his, but no words were spoken. Davos felt a wash of rage and relief at the sight of her. Memories of the late Princess Shireen flooded his mind, making him shake in anger. Her father sacrificed her all because of a few whispers in his ear kept telling him it was the right thing to do.

What kind of a king...what kind of man does that?

She was gone, she was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it... except avenge her.

Unconsciously, Ser Davos made his way down to the walls as the red priestess tied her steed to a nearby post. And then, they were face to face once again. She looked at Davos with a hint of peace and sadness. He could see that she was ready to die for what she had done and that she was also sad. Deep down, Melisandre knew that it was wrong. No matter what her Lord of the Light tells her, she did it without hesitation. No questions asked. And for the first time, she felt remorseful. Princess Shireen was a beautiful soul, unlike anything she's seen before. There was pure goodness in her, and she snuffed it out before she could reach her full potential.

And she could never take that back, no matter how much she wanted to.

Davos was the first to speak, "What in the seven hells are you doing here?"

"I still have a role to play, Ser Davos." She stated. "As do you."

"I don't care about your damn role. I want you gone."

"You need my help," Melisandre stepped closer to him, giving him a stern look. "I will die for what I've done; make no mistake about that, Ser Davos. But as of now, you need me. And I will do my best to aid you for as long as I can."

Davos mulled over words for a moment and sighed in defeat, knowing that her words rang true. They needed all the help they could get, and Davos knew what she was capable of. He would let her live for now. He would let her help them win this war, and then consider the options after it's over. In time, maybe he could forgive. Not for him, but because it's what Shireen would have wanted.

He nudged his head to the battlefield and said, "You better get down there. The Dead won't wait for us to make a move."

Melisandre gave him a soft, sad smile and a curt nod before she made her way back to the gate.

"You trust her?" Arya asked the Onion knight, her hands clutching onto the hilt of her dagger.

"No," Davos sighed, before turning and patting her shoulder. "But what choice do we have here."

Arya couldn't argue with that. The Red Priestess would be dealt with later if they made it that far. It was then Arya heard one of the commanders yell to light the first trench. And then the catapult was launched, signaling the first move of attack.

"It's time."

* * *

Jon watched his queen with worried eyes as she watched her men run into battle, his arm wrapped around her waist. The chaos had emerged, and the battle had begun. The sight was horrific, even from a distance. The moment they collided, it was an immediate bloodbath. He watched as the hands of those monsters were decimating hundreds of men. Daenerys watched the fight with fierce and anger, an emotion he rarely saw on his wife. It was a little unnerving for him, but still, he comforted her as a good husband would.

"Dany..."

She turned to him and stared into his eyes, filled with the same intensity. She could feel herself slip from him, and that was the last thing she wanted, to be distant from the man she loved. The fire that was beginning to ignite within her begins to smolder, as she gripped Jon's gloved hand. She gave him a soft smile before turning her eyes back to the scene of the war.

War... more like a massacre.

"It's not looking good out there," Daenerys confessed, watching the fire begin to disappear into the night. They were losing more soldiers by the second. Her hand moved to hover over her belly, and the fear started to emerge once again — her child. Her innocent little child that was growing inside of her was in danger. And that terrified her; that she could potentially lose another child. She couldn't. She refused to do that to Jon. They will win. They had to.

Jon followed her movements and laid a hand over hers, "It's not over yet."

Daenerys looked back at him and studied him for a long moment, wondering where else was she going to get a view like this again. The wind was blowing past his hair, making his brooding look exceptionally attractive. She didn't know what was to come next, but she knew that she would always be grateful to Jon for coming into her life. He was everything she needed and right when she needed it. She loved him, truly loved him. It was beyond anything she's felt for any man. And deep down, she knew it would be wrong to others, but it wasn't wrong to them. It was what made them happy that what was important.

She fully turned to face him, her hands caressing his cheek. Jon leaned his forehead against hers and held her impossibly close, sneaking a few kisses while they could. They both knew that they were close to the end. That this could be the last time, he holds her like this. He would cherish it until his dying breath.

"Jon..." She breathed, and he immediately shushed her.

"We'll win." He assured her. "And I'll come back to you. I swear it."

She leaned up and kissed him thoroughly, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was a kiss that solidified their love, their will to always come back to each other. Daenerys pulled back and looked at her husband as if it were the last time she would see him.

"You better."

Jon nodded with a small smile before he mounted Rhaegal.

"Stay safe, my love."

Jon smirked again, "I always do." And with that, the mighty dragons ascended into the sky. As they cautiously surveyed the area, something caught his eye, a cluster of mounted figures sheltered and shielded at the tree line's edge.

_The White Walkers._

"Dracarys," Jon yelled, the first time he ever uttered those words. Rhaegal breathed the fire upon the dead, eliminating them quickly by the dozen. Daenerys and Drogon were also handling their load of Wight Walkers. It was then where Jon and Daenerys heard a tortured roar fill the air of the battlefield. Daenerys' heart dropped to her stomach at the strangled sound, a sound that she knew very well. The sight that beheld nearly broke her into a million pieces.

It was _him,_ his bright blue eyes staring at the two Targaryens as he rode on the dead dragon. His hands stroked on the long neck of the beast, smirking sinisterly at them. Daenerys' eyes widened, and Jon saw the hidden fury that was in them, she was enraged and pissed. Jon knew what she was about to do, and he had no choice but to follow suit. They both nodded and approached the dead dragon with as much force as they could apply.

Drogon and Rhaegal both fired at the injured wing, trying to gain leverage over him. Viserion tried to snap in retribution, but he was always fell short. Instead, he turned around and whipped his tail at Rhaegal, making him grunt in pain and knock him off balance. Jon hissed as he held onto the spikes. Enraged, Drogon roared a heap of fire at the pair, igniting them in flames.

Jon's eyes widened in shock, his heart pumping with anticipation. And then...when the fire cleared, he was still riding the Viserion, the sinister smile again playing on his lips. It was then the anticipation had turned into fear. It didn't work. The Night King still lived. Not wanting to waste any more time, Jon flew under Viserion and chomped down on his leg, causing him to roar in pain once more. The sound was undeniably the most horrific ever.

It was then Rhaegal let his grip loose off of his leg, and Viserion's tail shifted in Jon's direction uncontrollably, and before he could react, it smacked him promptly in the face and knocked him right off of Rhaegal.

Daenerys' eyes widened in horror as she watched her husband fall. It was like she was watching it all happen in slow motion.

"Jon!"

And that was the last thing he heard as he saw a burst of blue flames scourge the air following by a handful of screams.

* * *

Jaime and Brienne stood close to each other as they watched as the first loads of the catapults sailed through the dark sky, the battle between the dragons that was going on. Jaime had never seen anything like it. It would've been a glorious sight to see if it wasn't also terrifying. It was then he saw a plummeting to the ground, and into the abyss. Jaime's eyes widened, knowing there was only one person who was riding that dragon. Jon.

"That didn't look good," Jaime swallowed the lump in his throat.

"No, it didn't," Brienne admitted, sighing deeply.

Jaime looked at the knight beside him and looked at her as if was the last time he would see her. The snow that lingered in her short blonde hair, the way her eyes were focused on the battle before. And her lips, her soft pink lips that just ached to be kissed. They were small and plump, but they were perfect for him. He didn't know he'd get the chance to tell her how he felt. There was a chance he wasn't going to survive this night — So...To hell with patience.

"Brienne," He whispered, his gloved fingers lacing through hers when he held her hand. She looked at him, startled but still didn't pull it away. "I just...I want you to know that I...I want... I mean..."

"Something caught your tongue?" Brienne narrowed her eyes at him, enjoying seeing Jaime Lannister squirm in embarrassment. His eyes met hers again, and something washed over both of them at that moment. An unspoken thing between them. And at that moment, it was no longer unspoken of. They knew what they needed; each other.

"Fucking seven hells, " Jaime then grabbed the base of her neck and pulled her in a seething, heated kiss. Brienne quickly responded with the same enthusiasm, her hands tangled into his hair. The trickles of his growing facial hair tickled her a little bit, but she couldn't care less about it. She too busy kissing the man she loved, the man she always loved.

Tyrion, Podrick, and Bronn, who were a few lines down from them, watched the sight with amusement. They were both glad Jaime finally found some form of happiness even if it was terrible timing.

Jaime pulled back first, his hands still on her neck, "Um...that was..uh..."

"Late," Brienne confirmed but smiled softly nonetheless. "Don't die on me now, you fool."

Jaime leaned in and kissed her again, this time gently.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Meanwhile, Jorah stood vigilant as he watched the battle beginning to slow down around them. The first swarm of their men had been taken out by the Wights, and it was only a matter of time before they made their way to the castle.

When Jon fell off Rhaegal, everyone was on edge. They didn't know if he lived or not. They didn't want to know at the moment. They'll find out soon enough. But Jorah was worried about Daenerys, his queen.

He knew how much Jon meant to her. He was her husband, her king, the father to her child. To lose all of those once again would be too much to bear. He was worried about her state of mind. She could only take so much suffering and pain before she snaps once more.

The roar of a dragon-filled the air once more, as the fire smoldered in the distance. Jorah swallowed as his hands landed on the hilt of his sword. He knew they were coming. He could practically smell them. And then, blue flames filled the field once more, revealing the horde of the dead that was coming their way. The fighting of the majestic beasts moved to the castle walls, destroying the front structure.

Melisandre approached the barricade and began whispering words he could barely comprehend. Jorah closed his eyes tightly as he held the Tarley's family sword and waited for the attacks to occur. And before he knew it, they were overflowing them, catching them off guard.

The battle for the ground had begun.

* * *

"Fall back! Fall back!" Lady Brienne yelled, not before cutting down another wight before her. "Retreat to the castle."

Arrows from the wall continued to rain down on the dead down below, but it wasn't enough. Their numbers were too high. It was overwhelming. Jaime's back was pressed against hers, making sure no harm came from behind. Tyrion huffed loudly as he was kneeling on a knee, trying to catch his breath. He held onto the hatchet tightly, the sharp part covered in blood. Bronn grabbed him by his arm and lifted him to bring him through the castle walls.

"Thought you would be dead by now," Bronn snickered. "You continue to surprise me, cunt."

"This ground is lost." Jaime sighed, slowly retreating to the castle walls."

"Our men need to get to safety first."

"We won't last long with that strategy."

Brienne looked at her men, being demolished from the army of the dead. He was right. There was only one thing they needed to do. Survive. And she knew that everybody couldn't be saved. Brienne would make sure that their deaths would be avenged, no matter what it takes. She gives Jaime a reluctant nod before they both retreated to the castle walls.

Daenerys scouted the skies, her eyes for frantically searching for Jon. It had been a few moments since she'd last seen the Night King or her husband's, and she was feeling her anxiety rise within every passing second. The Night King was dismounted as well from Viserion's back, and all Daenerys could think about was whether her love was still alive. He better, for his sake. And for hers. And for their child's. Her eyes closed tightly at the horrid thought, tears brimming at the edge of her eyes. No, he was alive. She was sure of it.

She watched as the wights smoothly went through the trenches, swarming her armies relentlessly. She could see Tormund and the Hound hacking at the Giant that broke through the castle walls as Edd moved the young Lyanna Mormont out of harm's way. She could see Arya with her double-edged dragon glass spear, killing every one of them that got in her way. She looked worn and broken, but not beaten. Direwolves were right behind Arya, snapping and tearing the opposing forces. Ghost had small scars littering his body and blood covering his white coat, but still fought fearlessly.

The sight from above was unlike anything she had ever seen. Daenerys knew what this war meant. She knew what it would mean if they failed. They wouldn't just lose Winterfell; they would lose everything. And to Daenerys, everything was too much to lose. To work this hard for what she wanted for so long, to fall in love once again, and to bear a child she never thought she could have, only to lose it all in an instant. She couldn't accept that. She would fight for the living and for the North, whatever it took.

_"Dracarys!"_

She could feel the heat emerge from the back of his throat as she held onto to his scales. Drogon landed on all four legs before he proceeded to burn every wight that was in his line of sight. He tried to burn the barricade once more to stop any more from progressing to the gates, but the dead had other plans. Drogon screeched in agony as he flew into the air, dismount Daenerys from his back. Drogon fought and fought, but he struggled to get them off of him.

Her head was ringing with pain as she struggled to get to her feet. She jumped when a burning wight reached from the dying flames and grabbed her ankle. Instinctively, she reached for the fallen sword beside her and swiped it across the arm on her ankle, a clean cut. The hand went limp, and the grip loosened. She quickly shoved it off and held the sword tightly in her hands.

"Thank you, Arya." She huffed, her hands moving to her belly. "Hold on, little one."

Daenerys never thought of fighting being in her arsenal. Being a ruler, she always had her army and champions to fight her battles for her. But now, here she stood, alone with her sword in her clutches. But was she was ready. She was a warrior. The sound of an animalistic growl caused Daenerys to turn instantly. A small horde of wights ran towards her, and she stood guard, ready to attack those who dared tried to harm her. Just like Arya taught her, she swung her sword upright and downwards, expertly taking out the small group alone. She could feel her arms grow tired, but her will to survive was too strong. She was ready for me.

But before she could swing again, she felt shoulders bump hers and watched as the horde fell before her. Grey Worm, Arya, and Jorah were in front of her, slashing and slicing at each of them. Daenerys, feeling more determined, decided to help. She snuck in a few stabs and swipes at the heartless monsters before they started to die down a little. The walls began to crumble around them, causing the ground to tremor from each rubble that fell.

"My Queen," Grey Worm huffed, his voice muffled from his mask. "The Night King has made it past the gate. He's on his way to the broken man."

Arya clutched her side tightly, her hands drenched in blood, "We...we have to go help him."

Daenerys noticed how weak she was, how her legs were beginning to wobble. It was only so much she could take. Without hesitance, Daenerys hooked Arya's arm around her neck and guided her to the castle gates. Through the thickness of Arya's coat, Daenerys felt the heat of blood on her hands. She looked at Arya and saw blood running down her nose, her cheeks bruised and battered. She had been through hell but still looked as determined as ever.

"Shit, " Arya huffed as a sharp pain shot through her side, and she sank to her knees.

"Get up," Daenerys huffed, holding her up back on her feet. Grey Worm led some assistance. "You're not dying on me, not today. I need you, Jon needs you."

"Jon..." Arya looked at Daenerys, silently asking her a question only she knew.

"I don't know..." Daenerys confessed, making their way around the piling bodies. A giant's corpse was on the ground, with Tormund heaving heavily on top of it. He gave them a curt nod as they walked by. The heat began to intensify around them as Viserion continued to demolish Winterfell. Nearly everything within the walls was covered in flames, the smell of ashes and blood wafted up to Daenerys' nose. She looked at her fallen child and tried not to cry. What has he become...

Arya squeezed her hand and eased a smile on her lips, "Jon always comes back, don't you worry."

Daenerys smiled back, but it didn't quite reach her eyes, "I hope so." And they continued the path to the Godswood. Little did they knew that their lives were going to change forever in just a few moments.

* * *

_EARLIER_

The Night King marched on to the Godswood, his goal only a few steps ahead of him. He can see him, the Three-Eyed Raven. He could see the warg state taking a toll on him, he could see how it was affecting him, and it was about time they were properly introduced.

_Bran is standing by an ancient tree, pillars surrounding it. He smiled at the beauty of the place, at how peaceful everything was there. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so...content and at peace. He knew what was to come. It was his destiny. And soon, it would be his destiny fulfilled. His hands were behind his back as he watched the leaves fall from the trees; the grass filled with the combination of auburn and green. He heard footsteps approaching, and he knew who it was. Bran closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and turned around to face his destiny._

_"It took you long enough."_

_The man smiled at Bran, approaching him, "Forgive me. I was quite occupied with the army you've summoned to kill me."_

_"I'm assuming the Greyjoy soldiers are dead."_

_"They are," The man bowed respectfully. "They were better than most."_

_"Yes, they were."_

_The man's brow furrowed in confusion as he continued to approach Bran. There was something serene about this man that Bran couldn't put his finger on. He didn't seem evil or malicious. He was calm in a way as if all he wanted was to understand him. Bran was starting to question everything he knew._

_The man looked at him and asked, "Why do you think I want you gone?"_

_"Your bond with the Children of the Forests, making it almost impossible to kill you. You know what happens once you strike me down." Bran confessed, and the man could only laugh at that._

_"Those things are true, but not the exact angle I was looking for," He holds his arms up as if they were chained together, bound by some invisible force. "I have no quarrel with your people. My blood runs through their veins as I was once...this — the First Men. I didn't ask for this, but I can't change what happened. I only want this bond broken so that my children and I can be free."_

_That baffled Bran, "Free? Free to do what?"_

_"To live."_

_Bran looked at him and realized that there was more to the Night King than he realized. Although he was willing to kill millions of people to do it, all he wanted was freedom. He was forever bound to magic that he wanted nothing to do with in the first place. To think that things may have been different if other Three-Eyed Ravens understood. For thousands of years, he has been waiting for this moment, and it was finally here._

_"If I let you...if I let you kill me, you and your Wight Walkers must return to your land. You must leave the living to be in peace, as they will for you."_

_He ponders for a moment before looking at the Three-Eyed Raven once more, "I accept your terms, on one condition."_

_Bran nodded for him to continue, "A child must be given to us every year. You must allow us to grow and continue to lift our numbers. And we will leave the living in peace. You have my word."_

_"Done."_

_"Jon Targaryen's child...must be the first given."_

_Bran's gaze lifted to him, and he clenched his fists, "What?"_

_The man nods again, walking around Bran in circles, "I saw that man murder my child right in front of me. He murdered many more, but he's a very skilled swordsman. I'll give him that. To repay that debt, he must give me his firstborn child. And I shall put the past behind me."_

_"Jon or Daenerys will never stand for that."_

_"It's a good thing they don't have a choice in the matter, right?"_

_Bran's mouth opened to speak but closed it quickly, realizing that he was out of options. He knew that this was the best thing to do for the living, and it had to be done. Reluctantly, Bran nodded, agreeing on the terms they had both discussed._

_"I must prepare my brother for what's to come."  
_

_"Do as you must," The man turned around and took a few steps before stopping by the tree. "I wish your family good fortune, Brandon Stark. You will be missed."_

_Bran said nothing back as he warged into his brother's mind._

* * *

_"Jon..."  
_

Jon's eyes popped open quickly as he quickly gasped for air, the atmosphere around him suffocating. His lower body was numb, and he could hardly move his legs. After taking a moment to realize where he was, he noticed that he laid on top of a pile of mounted corpses. Blood of dead dire wolves, Dothraki, and Unsullied stained his coat along with his face. He felt sweaty and hot, his coat sticking to his body.

_"Jon..."_

Bran's voice rang in his head once more as he began to climb over the dead bodies. From a distance, he could see Winterfell. He could see the castle walls being burned down in blue flames, the screams that followed. And with all of that going on, his only thoughts were on Daenerys, his pregnant wife. He was terrified for her now beyond reason. He didn't know if she was safe, if she was alive, if she had already joined their ranks. Gods, let her be safe.

_"Jon, it's time."_

"Bran..." Jon huffed, bending on one knee with his sword lodged into the ground. "Is...that you?"

_"Yes, the time has come for me to go."_

It was then flashes began to emerge through his mind. He saw it all. The Night King slaughtering the Greyjoy soldiers, his connection to Bran, the agreement they discussed. He saw it all. Jon grabbed onto his sword, lifting it out of the ground.

"No, Bran. Just...hold on."

 _"It's too late for me, brother."_ For a moment, Jon could hear the sadness in his tone. _"I have to go now."_

"No," Jon pleaded with Bran. "I can't let you die on me as well. I can't fail you too."

He still remembered the day he lost Rickon. He remembered when Ramsey shot an arrow through his little brother's heart right in front of him. He remembered how close he was to rescuing him but fell short, and he died. He couldn't let that happen again. It would just kill him if it did.

_"You could never fail me, Jon. This is the right thing to do for us all."_

"Bran, please..."

 _"It's going to be alright, Jon,"_ Bran whispered, and felt a lingering touch on his shoulder. _"This isn't how it ends for us, brother. Remember that."_

And then, he heard nothing. He felt nothing. Before he knew it, Jon was back on his feet running up to the broken castle walls, cutting through any dead men that got in his way. Inside of his home was a bloodbath; bodies were sprawled in every space you could conjure. He even saw Edd's dead body on the way. He had no time to mourn. He had to keep moving. He saw Tormund's heaping body by the corpse of a wight giant, but he didn't stop moving. He had to get to Bran, and nothing mattered at that moment.

He rushed to the woods, the paved path now filled with bodies. Jon kept running with as much strength as he could muster, and the sight that he was met with broke his heart into a million pieces. In front of him was Bran giving the Night King a curt nod, and strangely enough, he nodded back. He drew his sword, and that immediately alerted Jon. He knew what was coming.

Bran was about to die.

"No!"

And the last thing he saw from Bran was a small smile, a real smile. And then the Night King cuts him down with his sword, black dust now scattering into the air. Jon dropped to his knees as he watched another brother fall before him.

The Three-Eyed Raven has fallen once more.

The Night King turns his head over his shoulder slightly, watching Jon sink in his despair. He slowly turned around fully and faced him, Jon now looking at a barely breathing Theon, blood pouring from underneath his body. His left eye was slashed, leaving him with just the one now. But he was still alive. Tough bastard he was.

"I'm sorry," Theon whispered, his eye now lingering on the chair Bran once sat in. "I failed him."

Jon let his words sink in for a moment before he shook his head, "No. I failed him."

And he slowly rose to his feet, looking at the Night King with pure rage and hatred. The dead that surrounded the ancient tree all watched with dull amusement. Jon took a deep breath before he unsheathed his sword, clutching onto the hilt tightly.

"But I will avenge him."

The Night King nods curtly before drawing his sword as well.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Jon rushed towards him and started swinging wildly. Pain, agony, and adrenaline rush was pushing him to over his limits. His leg was still numb from his fall, and he wasn't exactly at full strength. But he didn't care. He was trying to get at the monster who stole his little brother away from him. The Night King blocked his rapid attacks and landed a hard blow to his side. Jon heard a crack at his sides, and he staggered back a little.

He watched as the Night King pressed forward, relentlessly attacking him. Jon was strong. But he wasn't a match for him. He was deprived of all of his experience, and he was completely overmatched. He took blow after blow without making a sound. He didn't groan or grunt in pain. It was haunting.

Theon wanted to help. He wanted to fight by his side and protect his brother. But he was forced to face the fact that there was nothing he could do at that moment.

Blood spilled freely inside his coat, and it was at that moment that Jon felt the toll it was taking for him to fight.

Finally, the Night King eventually disarmed the greatest swordsman that ever walked. Longclaw fell onto the ground, burying into the snow. Jon watched his sword for a small moment before he felt it. He looked down to see the sword lodged into his lower abdomen, a crunching sound following it. He heard a scream. He wasn't sure who it was from. Jon looked into the Night King's bright blue eyes. They had a silent conversation in that brief glance. What they didn't say spoke volumes. Jon looked into his eyes and saw the coldness yet sincerity in them. It was then Jon knew that he was going to die.

He pulls the sword from out of him and watches the blood spill into the snow. Jon grunts in pain and falls to his knees once more, his eyes never leaving the Night Kings. He prepares his sword for the finishing blow until he hears a scream from the shadows. The Night King turns around instinctively and catches the leaping assassin in his hands. It was Arya, holding the Valerian steel dagger in her grasp. They stare at each other intently before she drops the blade and catches it into her other hand, stabbing him into his stomach.

For a moment, nothing happened. And then, the dagger that was lodged inside of him shatters into a million pieces. It was for the first time that Arya Stark was truly afraid of the face of death. His hands around her neck tighten for a small moment before he sneaks a look at Jon, who was leaning against the ancient tree, holding onto his open wound. He takes the time to look around at the dead soldiers that littered the soil and dropped the Stark girl to her feet. He got what he wanted; there was no need to shed more blood.

Arya was sobbing and heaping as she tried to regain her breath.

The Night King looks at his remaining forces, and they silently convey a message to each other. Without a word being spoken, he leaves the Godswood and continues to walk down the paved path. After a moment, you could hear the screams stop. The swinging of the sword stopped. All that was heard was a massive thump in the castle walls and then...silence.

After a moment, Arya crawled to her brother, who was already accompanied by a broken Theon. She leaned her body against his side, feeling his arms wrap around her shoulder. She helped apply pressure to his wound, trying to help with the bleeding. She could feel his rapid heartbeat grow steady, but it was weak. His breathing came out in harsh wheezes as he tried to speak.

"I couldn't...I couldn't save him."

"Shhh..." Arya shushed him, keeping her hands on the wound. "Don't do that to yourself. Stay with me."

He laughed, despite his condition. Despite his failure, "That's the last thing on my mind is my safety."

Theon leaned up against the tree fully, trying to steady his breathing. He laid a hand on Jon's lap, "You fought with honor, Jon."

"And I lost," Jon sighed, a small line of blood sliding down his lips. He laid a weak hand over Theon's. "It's just us four now. The last of the Starks."

Arya didn't want to waste any more time talking. She was losing him. Theon and Arya lifted him from the ground and began walking out of the Godswood.

"J-Jon?"

His eyes glazed over as he felt a swell of relief when he saw Daenerys standing by a limping Jorah and Grey Worm. As her for him. It had brought them to hope where they thought there had been none. She needed to touch him, hold him before her heart would believe what her eyes were telling her His eyes met hers. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to. His heart was in his eyes.

She ran to him, heedless of her injuries. Nothing mattered except being in his arms. She ran and practically lept into his arms. To hold her like this as he continued to lose blood, it was Heaven to him. And if he were to die in her arms, he would have it no other way. He held her tightly, but carefully, littering her faces with kisses.

"Careful with him," Arya warned. "We need to get him out of here."

"I'll be alright." His hands caressed his wife's face; his thumb glided gently over her split lip.

"I thought I'd lost you," Daenerys whispered against his chest.

He stroked her hair, and she felt his lips lightly brush the crown of her head. "I'm alright, my queen. As long as you're safe. The baby..."

"As far as I can tell, we're both alright."

Their eyes met, and Daenerys melted. He looked so broken, so defeated. She never wanted to see him like that. She reached up and touched his face, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth with her thumb. But as soon as she rubbed it, fresh blood seeped out from the edge of his mouth again.

Jon coughed a wet, guttural sound from deep within his lungs. Daenerys started to panic as he stepped back to look at his wound. His hands were covered in his blood, and he looked back at Daenerys, his eyes beginning to glaze over.

"Dany..." he muttered before he collapsed. Arya and Theon were at his side, but none were quicker than Daenerys.

"Jon?"

He was pale and motionless. He was cold.

Daenerys clutched his body to hers, rocking him back and forth, "Jon? Don't you dare do this to me. Do you hear me? I love you too much to lose you this way. You can't leave us like this."

No reply.

"Damn you," She leaned her forehead against his. "You promised me. You promised."

Drogon and Rhaegal arrived and surrounded the group with their giant wings and she cried throughout the endless night as the surviving soldiers wondered what they had won and what they had lost.


	8. VII.| Love and Death.

Daenerys woke up with a start, breathing heavily and rapidly. She opened her eyes and came back to full consciousness, feeling every muscle in her body being sore. She tried to sit up, but a restraining arm held her down. Daenerys immediately panicked and struggled, trying to fight her way out of the tight embrace.

"Shh, Khaleesi, it's just me. You're safe now." Jorah ran a hand through her hair. "I was so afraid I had lost you."

Everything came back to her in a rush. "Jon," She cried out. "Where's Jon?"

Jorah's face crumpled for a moment before he put on a mask of indifference. "The Red Priestess is with him now."

Daenerys whipped her head towards him, "I need to see him."

"Of course."

He stood up and gently set her down on my feet. She was shocked when she looked around. She remembered them evacuating Winterfell and beginning the march to Highgarden, but she hadn't expected such opulence. She was in a small room; a room used to help the ones in need of medical attention. There was a door to another room next to them. She assumed that was the bedroom where they were keeping Jon.

Images from the battle came flooding back to her. Jon laid broken and bleeding in her arms, and she had never felt so helpless. She couldn't do anything for him. The only thing she could do was be there for him; to hold him in her arms to let him know that he wasn't alone. And he wasn't. The North mourned for Jon, they all felt his death. Rhaegal especially, she's never seen him so down.

Jorah reached for the doorknob, but Daenerys grabbed his hand. "Wait."

Her lip quivered, afraid of what she would find once she opened that door. Jorah, sensing her fear, placed a hand on her shoulder, and she immediately flinched. She couldn't help but remember the wight's cold dead hand grasp her ankles and arm. It would take a while before she gets comfortable with people touching her again.

"Khaleesi, I..."

"No, it's alright," she whispered. "I'm just…jumpy."

Jorah gave her an understanding smile and nodded, opening the door. Daenerys saw Melisandre leaning over his naked body, whispering something she couldn't comprehend in his ear. She slowly walked over to her husband's body and stared at him with sad eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. Jon was beautiful, additional burns and scars on his chest that Daenerys knew weren't there before. He looked peaceful as if he was sleeping. But she knew better than that...

It was then she noticed Sansa, Theon, Arya, Davos, Sam, and Tormund in the corner, staring stonily at Jon's body. Theon's eye was covered in a patch, and he gave Daenerys a sad smile as he held Sansa in his arms while she cried. Arya kept her head bowed, and Tormund did the same.

Daenerys swallowed hard, "We need to bury him."

"What?" Sansa whispered.

Daenerys walked to Jon and looked at him, gliding her hand over his jaw. She leaned down and placed a kiss on his forehead and cheek, feeling another pull at her heart at having to let go of another husband, the father of her unborn child. Her poor innocent child, "He deserves a proper burial, a traditional Targaryen funeral."

"He's our brother! He belongs in the crypts with our father and our mother! His family!" Sansa cried, separating herself from Theon.

That made Daenerys snap, and she immediately whipped her head towards her, "What crypts? Winterfell is in shambles; the _crypts_ are in shambles. I don't care if he's your brother, he was my husband! He was mine! Don't pretend like you care what happens to him now..."

Daenerys felt a small movement in her stomach, and her legs went limp, and it took everything in her to catch myself before she fell. Jorah immediately caught her in his arms and set her down by Jon's bedside.

"What's wrong, Khaleesi?"

Daenerys gasped, tears streaming down her cheek, "The baby...it moved."

The room was silent. No one dared to say a word. Arya and Sansa's eyes widened at the thought of Jon's child growing inside of her with every passing moment. Tyrion didn't look surprised at all, with him knowing the truth for quite some time. Without hesitation, Arya moved to by Daenerys' side and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You're...pregnant?"

Daenerys nodded and took the mug from Tyrion's who gave her a soft, sad smile.

"But..." Sansa couldn't believe what she was hearing. She could barely breathe.

"He's the father of our child, and I decide what's best for him now."

"Jon Snow still lives," Melisandre spoke up, crossing her arms. Daenerys felt her heart stop, the pit of her belly clenching at the words that left the Red Priestess lips.

"What?"

Her eyes stared at the burning candle by his bedside. "I can hear his subconscious. He's fighting with all of his strength to come back to you."

"How is that possible," Daenerys whispered, her hands hovering over his body. "Why hasn't he awake yet?"

"He can't," Melisandre' kept her eyes on the candle. "He needs guidance."

"Then why haven't you given it to him?" Daenerys hissed at her, trying to contain her

"To survive such a fatal wound should have been impossible. He told me once that if he shall fall again, to not bring him back. This is something different Your Grace, and I don't know how this will affect him."

"I don't care! Just bring him back!"

"Your Grace...

Daenerys buried her head in her hands, overwhelmed with emotion. She was in pain; she was tired and hungry. She didn't know how to handle all of this heartbreak at once. Tyrion watched his Queen with a sympathetic eye, mindful of not touching her. Her dress was tattered, covered in blood and ashes. She didn't want to change out of it. She didn't want to see what was underneath.

Missandei walked to her side and bent down beside her, "I'll get you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"Your Grace, you must eat."

"When Jon eats, I'll eat." She said stoically, eyes blank from any emotion.

Tyrion spoke up, "Alright, since you don't want to eat, then we should tend to your injuries."

"It won't be necessary."

"But…"

"It won't be necessary," She repeated firmly.

Tyrion considered her for a moment and then nodded in agreement. Everyone in the room shared a concerned look for her state of mind. She wasn't herself. She was far from herself.

"We'll...give you two your privacy." Davos gestured everyone out of the room except Melisandre, and Jorah was the last to leave. He didn't want to leave his Queen behind. He hated watching her this way.

"I will watch over her, Ser Jorah," Melisandre spoke over her shoulder, before averting her gaze back to the flames of the candle. Daenerys didn't dare look at Jorah. She didn't want to see the hurt in his eyes, the pain that he felt. She just kept her focus on Jon. Jorah smiled sadly at her once more before leaving her be.

Jon didn't move a muscle the entire time Daenerys stood by him. He wasn't even breathing, but Melisandre assured her he was alive. She reached for Jon's hand and squeezed it. He didn't respond. She brushed his hair away from his face and leaned in to kiss his forehead. She waited and watched him for a long time, looking for any sign of movement, hoping that he would wake up soon. But he never did.

Despite the pain, she crawled into the bed and laid beside him, resting her head on his chest. I t was then she realized she had quickly fallen asleep when she felt a slight nudge to her shoulder. It was Missandei with folded spare clothing in her hands.

"I figured you'd want to clean up a bit, Your Grace."

"All I want is for my love to return to me." Daenerys ran a soothing hand through his hair.

Melisande spoke up, "He's still dreaming, reliving the battle over and over in his mind."

"The flames tell you that," Daenerys snapped at the Red Priestess, which she kindly ignored. She knew of the things she suffered and the suffering that was to come. She didn't dare oppose her for it.

"It did."

"Does it tell you how to wake him up?"

"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that."

"Well, then how does it work?"

Melisandre shrugged apologetically, "Signs. I see the signs, and they speak to me."

Daenerys laced her fingers through Jon's and placed another kiss on his forehead, "No offense, but that sounds like horseshit."

Missandei's eyes widened at Daenerys' words. Of all the years she's been around her, she's never once heard her use a swear. Even when it was well deserved, this entire situation was taken a toll on her.

"Your Grace, please."

Daenerys kept her stern gaze on Jon before she nodded curtly and took the clothes she offered. She stood up but realized she couldn't move. She stared at Jon lying on the bed. "I don't care about the price, woman. Bring him back to me."

Melisandre looked into her eyes, and she saw the desperation in them, the pain that lingered there, "If we do this, he may never be the same again."

"Bring him...back to me."

Knowing that she wasn't going to budge, Melisandre nodded firmly to her, "I will prepare him for it. I'll wait for your command."

Daenerys nodded back before she went to the next room and closed the door. She saw her reflection in the mirror and nearly screamed. She looked horrid. She had a black eye, her lower lip was swollen, and the cut on her mouth looked deep. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her cheek had a red mark on it, following by a small scar. Her arm was sore and stiff, and it was hard to maneuver around, but she had to make do with the simple tasks.

She took off her dress, now naked, and nearly broke down. She had bruises on her shoulders and was almost sick to my stomach when she saw the bruises on her thighs. Her hands were on her belly, barely untouched, and she closed her eyes, thankful that her child still lived inside of her. She would never take it for granted that she now lived and that her child was now safe. She could only hope that Jon returned as well.

Missandei knocked softly on the door, and Daenerys didn't say a word, "Your Grace?"

She didn't say anything.

"If you would like, I can clean you up." Missandei's voice was strained outside the bathroom. "It's already a warm bath drawn."

Daenerys looked at the steamed filled tub and sighed, knowing that she had to take care of herself. It wasn't about her anymore. She had a baby to think of as well. Without hesitation, she opened the door and slipped into the tub, not opening up for conversation. There were no words that could be spoken that would ease her pain.

The aftermath wasn't so pleasant either. Daenerys struggled to get her arms into the sleeves of her gown. Her shoulder was stiff, and it just wouldn't bend the way she needed it to, and the dress was uncooperative. She couldn't turn her arm correctly. Missandei helped her with the final tug, and her injured arm finally slid into the sleeve, but not before she cried out in pain.

"Are you alright?"

She quickly wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded.

"If your shoulder is hurting you that badly, you really should get it checked out. And I can also bring you something to eat."

Daenerys shook her head. "Not yet. I'm too tired to eat." And the moment she said it, she realized just how true that was. She was emotionally and physically drained. She had been through hell and back, and she knew she wasn't entirely out of the woods yet.

"Missandei," she whispered, her hands clenching onto her friends tightly. She squeezed back. "I'm afraid."

"I know," Missandei whispered. "I know. But everything will be fine, I promise."

"You can't promise me that."

"No, I can't." Missandei pulled Daenerys into her arms and embraced her. This time, Daenerys didn't flinch. She accepted the warm comfort, knowing that she desperately needed it. "But I refuse to watch you give up."

"I won't."

And her words rung true.

* * *

Cersei sat on the Iron Throne stiffly, her eyes surveying the men in front of her. Her face was expressionless as she looked at them. She knew that the war for Winterfell had already taken place, but she did not what came to be for everyone involved, including Jaime. She hadn't seen him in weeks, and even though she didn't want to admit it, she missed him. He was the essential piece of her world, and their child's. And he yet, he left her.

She never thought that he would betray her for the North. Everyone knew how much they despised the Lannister House, and he left anyway. It made her feel like she wasn't anything to him anymore. That she was replaceable. And that's probably what he did. Replaced her with that lumbering beast. How adorable and futile of him. Cersei always thought he was the stupidest Lannister. Still, it didn't matter to her. She had something of Jaime's that Brienne didn't; his child.

She subtly caressed her small belly bump, sighing deeply. She feared for this child's life, more than she would care to admit. She remembered the wight that nearly ripped her throat out, the darkness that lingered down its own and its eyes. It was horrid to think that they possibly have to face those things coming down to the south. And they weren't her only problem. She was worried about Daenerys Targaryen as well.

Daenerys...the silver-haired bitch who turned nothing into something magnificent. She envied her beauty, she envied her youth, and she craved the power she had over people. A skill that she doesn't even know she possesses. She had control over the people. Not here, not yet anyway. But wherever she went, people were drawn to her in some way, and she hated her for that. She could only hope that she would die before she sets her sights back on King's Landing.

"Your Grace," A messenger interrupted the Queen's thoughts, causing her to whip her head towards him.

"Yes," She snipped as he bowed down to his knees. He came back to his feet and walked to the Queen without hesitation, a rolled-up paper in his hands.

"A raven came from one of our scouts," He explained, his head bowed slightly.

"And?"

His eyes met hers, "The King in the North is dead."

She sighed deeply, hands clenching onto the armrests tightly. She nodded towards him, and he brought the paper into her grasp. She quickly skimmed over it, her heart dropping at the words she was reading.

_Winterfell has fallen. The Dead march south. Jon Snow is dead._

"Any survivors?"

"The people were sent to Highgarden ahead of time, those who survived have also made their way there," The messenger said. "The dragon queen still lives as well, Your Grace."

Cersei gripped on the edges of the paper, seething, "They've been in Highgarden this whole time without my knowledge?"

The messenger nodded, "They have the castle surrounded with their remaining armies and two dragons. We've decided not to approach without your command."

Euron stepped forward and made his presence known, "Just say the word, and I'll have my men and your army down there in an instant." She couldn't help but stare at the man in disgust, but she hid her distaste well. She couldn't bear to look at him really, knowing that all he wanted to was to fuck the Queen to stroke his fragile ego. Still, it kept him loyal, and that was good enough for her.

Finally, Cersei leaned back and shook her head, "Then, let us prepare. Let them come to us."

* * *

Daenerys continued to watch her husband lay there, helpless and motionless. A blanket now covered his lower area, as they now had others for company. Melisandre came by her side and had a dagger in her hands and a vial of something in her grasp. Daenerys noticed how nervous the red priestess was, how she was reacting.

"Are you sure about this," Melisandre whispered to her. "I...made a promise to him that I wouldn't bring him back shall he fall once more. I don't know how this will affect him."

A dilemma ran through Daenerys' mind. It was like repeating the same cycle all over again. Was she truly unlucky when it came to these things? At that point, she really didn't care what was to come next. She didn't look at the eyes that bored into her back; she could care less. They found the plan mad, but she didn't care. It reminded her of Drogo all over again. Being pregnant and alone, waiting for her husband's death. Maybe she was foolish still, perhaps not. But either way, she wasn't losing Jon.

"Bring him back to me. Now."

Arya and Sansa were in front and center. They didn't want to miss a thing. Tyrion, Podrick, and Bronn stood in the back, along with Tormund, Sam, and Davos. Jaime and Brienne stood amid the group, in the corner. The only lighting in the room was coming from the large fireplace as it illuminated Jon's body.

"This is madness," Brienne muttered under her breath. "We should burn him and let the woman mourn his death. I have a bad feeling about this."

Jaime scoffed, "You try telling her that."

Daenerys leaned over her husband and laid a sweet kiss on his forehead and onto his lips, "Return to me, my love." The others looked on with concern, not sure how all of this will play out. Jorah felt the familiarity about the situation as well, knowing how it all ended. If the same thing were to happen once more, it would surely destroy his Queen. And he refused to let her go through that pain once again.

And with that, Melisandre walked over to Jon's sleeping form and placed her hands on his bare torso firmly, muttering words under her breath. The room grew silent, their eyes all watching Jon with anxiousness. And then, after what seemed like forever, Daenerys saw his fist clench. She moved closer to him, observing what was going on with him. Something was wrong here. Something was very wrong.

"Khaleesi," Jorah warned with his hands on the hilt of his sword. But she was interrupted by a grunt and small gasp of breath. Jon was alive.

"What is going on?" Daenerys said through gritted teeth, her eyes landing on the red priestess. "What did you just make me do?"

"I made you do nothing, I warned you of what was to come." Melisandre sighed. 

Before anyone could react, Jon opened up eyes, not making a sound. His vision was alot clearer as if everything around him was moving at a slow pace. He felt...different. He knew he should be feeling pain, but he didn't. He felt more energized, more...alive, if that made any sense. It was like there was nothing he couldn't possibly do. And then, a scent instantly wafted up to his nose. The smell of honeysuckle and waterfalls, a scent he knew all too well. Daenerys was near him, and it was like her very scent was taking over his senses.

Daenerys noticed that and saw that his eyes were wide, tentative, like someone who has awoken a dangerous animal.

"Jon?"

Jon didn't notice her, but he heard her voice, and when he tried to speak, only a grunt brushed past his lips.

"It may take a moment for him to speak, "Melisandre spoke up, now standing by Daenerys. "It hasn't fully taken its course."

Jon grunted once more, only to lean over the table and cough up blood, spitting it out onto the nearby bucket. And it was like something inside of Jon snapped. An animalistic instinct that wasn't there before that just made him lose it. Jon leaped off the table and went straight for Melisandre, his hands wrapping around her neck. Shockingly, Jon lifted her a few inches of the ground; his hands still lodged around her throat.

"Jon!" Daenerys gasped and tried to get to him, only to have Jorah pull her back.

"He's not safe, Khaleesi!"

She struggled to get out of his embrace, "Let me go!"

Jon's hand's tightened, and Melisandre clutched at his strong hands as Jon was squeezing the life out of her body. Her eyes bulged immediately, and she thrashed in his arms around. Jon just squeezed harder.

"Jon! Stop it, Jon!" Daenerys grunted, still in Jorah's grasp.

"Wh...what did you do to me?" Jon grunted, not letting go. Melisandre's throat felt like a twig that Jon could snap at any moment. Jon forced pressure into the pulse point of her skin and tried to pop it with strength. She tried to speak but couldn't. "I told you...I told you never again."

"I know...I know..." Melisandre pleaded, her hands wrapping around his. Theon placed a protective hand over Sansa's shoulder as Jaimie and Brienne prepared themselves to fight.

"My boy, please stop this madness," Davos spoke, feeling helpless.

Melisandre had surpassed blue. She was now purple.

Daenerys then realized that with every passing moment, Jon was pulling away from her. A great chasm threatened to separate them forever unless she stopped it. She jumped out of Jorah's arms and reached for Jon. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. Melisandre was still in Jon's grasp, but his grip was weakening. The scent. It was back once more.

"I'm here, Jon. I'm right here..." Her eyes met Jon's again, and he could see the plea in them. Something washed over him; he wasn't sure what it was. But for a moment, there was a flicker, a feeling that took over him, and he dropped Melisandre to the ground, and she crumbled quickly, a heaping mess of sobs, gasping breaths, and flailing limbs.

Jon instantly fell to his knees, bringing Daenerys down with him.

"Dany..." He breathed, his hands burying into her hair as he held her impossibly closer. "Dany...I..."

"Shhh..." She buried her face in his neck. "You're alive, Jon. That's all that matters. I don't know what I would've done. I thought I'd lost you. I..." She didn't dare to continue.

Jon leaned against the legs of the table as Davos wrapped the blanket back around, placing a comforting hand over his shoulder. Sansa and Arya were in front of him as well.

"What...what's wrong with me..."

"It's his blood," Melisandre continued through heaping breaths. Tyrion tried to help steady her breathing. "It's awakened the dragon within him."

Daenerys smiled weakly, brushing her hand down his cheek, "Blood of my blood."

Despite himself, Jon smiled as well and clutched onto her hand tightly.

"Should we tell them now?" Melisandre whispered, looking at the two knowingly. Jon was in no condition to respond, so Daenerys nodded. It was bound to come out sooner or later, so there no point in keeping it a secret.

"Jon Snow is the legitimate son of Lyanna and Rhaegar Targaryen," Daenerys whispered. "He's the heir to the Iron Throne."

They all stared at her for a moment, completely dumbfounded. There were no words.

"No," Sansa shook her head. "He's our brother! He's the son of Eddard Stark, our brother! This is madness."

"It's true," Sam confirmed, nodding at the words. "It's all true."

Something clicked in all of their brains, and they all looked at the two accusingly. Jorah spoke first, "So...you two...you're..."

"Enough!" Jon grunted, his eyes still closed. "We will not speak of this anymore! Daenerys is my Queen, and that is the last of it! If any of you have an issue about it, you go through me!"

Daenerys sighed deeply, caressing Jon's face. A huge weight had been lifted from her, from both of them. She put her hand to his forehead, feeling the heat radiate off his body.

"What have you done to him?"

"What I've done the last time," Melisandre whispered, rubbing her hand against the bruise that formed around her neck. "This is somehow different."

"Different how?" Daenerys demanded, helping Jon back onto the bed nearby.

"I don't know, but I will stay if you'd like me to examine his condition."

Daenerys ran a hand through Jon's hair, feeling the sweat mat his hair down to his forehead. "Leave us. He needs his rest." Jon hummed at her touch, trying to rest. At first, they were questioning whether they should stay and keep watch over him. Especially Jorah, he was concerned for her safety. But Daenerys wouldn't hear of it. She needed to be there for him. After agreeing, they all decided that it was best to discuss the matters tomorrow. It was a new day ahead. Arya, the last one to leave, placed a soft kiss to his forehead and left them to be.

Daenerys looked at Jon once more, and tears spilled down her face. She wished she could take his pain away. He was so strong, so full of life. And to see him now, it was like looking at a shell of who he was. But she knew that Jon just needed to heal. And she would give him all the strength he needed to do it.

She climbed into the bed and held Jon close. She never wanted to let him go.

"Dany?" he stirred and grunted in his sleep. Daenerys shushed him and kissed his cheek. "I'm here," She whispered, placing a hand over her belly. "We're here. We won't leave you ever again."


	9. VIII.|The Death of Duty.

A few more days have passed since Jon's awakening, and his road to recovery was far from pleasant. His body was a mass of bruises and broken bones. He was also mentally and physically exhausted. Melisandre thought it best that Jon rests to allow his mind and body to heal. But even so, it didn't help him very much. 

Jon was in the chamber most of the time and only managed to stay awake for a few hours each day, spending them with Daenerys. It was just enough for him to eat to keep up his strength. They didn't talk much, but Daenerys stayed by his side regardless. He would have a few lucid moments and would mumble, "I failed you father. I failed them all." And he would sleep for the rest of the day.

She knew the loss of another brother was a blow to Jon and that the guilt was crippling.

The swelling on Jon's wounds had finally gone down, but he was still covered in dark bruises. His ribs were still wrapped up tight in bandages, but that didn't stop Jon from doing what he wanted. He never mentioned Bran or the battle for Winterfell. He just pushed on and pretended like nothing was wrong; pretended that he wasn't covered in bruises and healing from other injuries. Jon would barely even smile, let alone speak. He was an utter shell of what he used to be.

Despite it all, Daenerys never left his side.

He was better with her around, almost happy. He would hold her in his arms for as long as he could without uttering a word. He would rub her swollen belly in a soothing motion to acknowledge their child. His lips would twitch in amusement sometimes when Daenerys tried to make him laugh. It was a sign that the old Jon was in there somewhere.

Everyone was broken. Everyone had healed physically from the battle. But they were all damaged on the inside. They had lost some of their own—friends and family; those who were important to them. Morale was beyond low.

The room was filled with silence as they let Jon explain what Bran explained to him that night of the Battle for Winterfell. Their expressions were unreadable and vague while they were processing this new information. Tyrion, Jaime, Varys, Jorah, Arya, Sansa, and Davos were all looking at Jon and Daenerys from the sides of the round table.

"I'm surprised you would tell them this, considering the predicament you're in Your Grace," Varys argued. "Once the people find out, it's most likely they will want to see Jon on the Iron Throne and not you."

Daenerys sighed and laid her hand on her belly, which rose a little from her bump, "He's my king consort. If he wishes to take a better position, he will tell me. But right now, my child's safety is all that matters to me; my family's safety. The Night King isn't just a threat to my child but to the thousands of children to come. We must put an end to him. Permanently."

Tyrion nodded in agreement, "He poses a threat to us all, even with their dragon dead. This doesn't bode well for us."

"We saw his power," Jaime spoke up. "If what Bran told us is true, nothing can stop him now."

"There is a way," Melisandre said from behind them all, coming out from the corner of the room. All eyes were on her at the moment. ”A prophecy I'm sure of."

Jon stepped away from Daenerys' side and faced Melisandre, crossing his arms, "And what does this prophecy tell us?"

"That, I don't know yet. But I will tell you once I know." Melisandre bowed respectfully to Jon.

"We can worry about that later," Tyrion interrupted, scratching his chin. "We can't have powerful enemies from the North and the South. We have to stop Cersei before the Night King returns."

"Jon and Daenerys both being Targaryens and well-respected leaders with a child to be born of noble blood. They should have no issue winning the support of the other houses." Varys intercepted, bringing up valid points.

Sansa's eyes landed on Daenerys', who still had her hand on her belly. She was now rubbing it in a soothing motion. Sansa remembered the promise she made to her brother, that she would support him through all of this. Finding out about Jon's heritage was a bitter truth to swallow, and it took her some time to process. But she let it go. Who cares if they were related? Daenerys made her brother happy, and she had to protect the life of her niece or nephew. Sansa wasn't going to hold back on her word this time; she was going to keep it.

"The North stands by you, brother. And you as well, Your Grace." Sansa nodded curtly. "We all need to be united for all the threats to come. We are with you."

Daenerys looked at Sansa for a moment before nodding respectfully.

"I will set sail for Dorne and ask for the new prince to ally with us, as well for Yara Greyjoy," Varys explained his intentions. "We will need all the help we can get."

Jon coughed roughly, causing attention to shift to him. Daenerys grabbed his arm tight, but not enough to hurt.

"Are you alright?" Daenerys whispered.

"I'm fine," Jon wiped his mouth quickly. "It's nothing."

Even though she didn't believe him, she decided to drop it this time. She decided to go back to planning, "Tyrion, how do we defeat your sister without killing any innocents?"

Tyrion scratched his chin once more as he pondered over it, "There's a secret passage underneath the Red Keep. We can enter anyone in without getting noticed or hurting any innocents people."

"What if I went instead?" Jaime spoke up, making everyone perk up instantly. Brienne's brow furrowed in confusion, but Jaime grabbed her hand subtly, reassuring her. "I'll go in alone and try to get through to her. If she doesn't back down, then we can proceed with our original battle plan."

"Can you be trusted alone with your sister?" Arya pressed, crossing her arms beside Sansa. "You could lead us to a big trap and slaughter us all. Your family is good at that."

"If there's not a chance she won't have me murdered the moment I step foot in her sight, I'll give you the honors if I so happen to betray you."

Arya huffed and rolled her eyes. She didn't trust him still, and she didn't take Cersei off her list. If Jaime didn't get the job done, she would make sure that she did.

"Very well," Daenerys nodded curtly, wrapping her arms around Jon's waist. "We leave at dawn. Prepare the troops for the march to King's Landing. We have another battle ahead of us."

* * *

The night was among them, the fires lit to brighten up the courtyard of Highgarden. The remaining Unsullied, Dothraki, and free folk set up the camps outside the castle walls, having a festive moment to themselves before they began their march at dawn. It was like their spirits were never brought down, even after the loss of Winterfell. The dragons soared across the night sky as the roared loud and proud. Jon didn't know how he could face them, knowing that he failed his people once more. He didn't know how to go on with these thoughts going through his head. He was strolling along the castle walls to check on his people as he felt someone walk beside him. His eyes shifted to see Jaime Lannister beside him.

"Jon Targaryen. Never thought I'd hear myself say that" Jaime started to ease the tension. Jon grunted in response. "How are you feeling?"

Jon opened his mouth but closed it, thinking of his words carefully. "Different."

"Dying and coming back can do that to a man."

"It's different from last time I mean," Jon reprimanded his last answer. "It's like I can feel...nothing, but at the same time, I can feel everything. I can see animals lurking in the shadows, and smell things I normally don't. I don't even know what I'm capable of anymore, and that frightens me."

"Because of your family?" Jon didn't answer, but Jaime knew that's what it was.

"How does it feel, becoming a father?"

Jon smiled softly, his wife coming into his mind, "I never thought I'd be a father. I would get here at this point in my life. All I've ever wanted was to find an honorable woman to share my life with. And now that I do..."

"You want to do anything in your power to protect them, no matter the costs." Jaime finished for him, earning a slight nod. Jaime hummed thoughtfully. He understood what he was saying, more than anyone. He knew who Cersei was, knew how cruel she is and stubborn she can be. But that didn't matter. She's his sister, and even that didn't matter. He loved her, more than anything in the world. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her. But he wasn't that same man he was back then.

"I wish I could've been a father to my own—a real father. I was around, and they didn't have an inkling that they were mine," Jaime felt his chest tighten with his words.

"Was it hard, with them not knowing?"

He nodded curtly, "At times. And now that they're gone, it only opens up old wounds and regrets."

"I'm sure you tried," Jon suggested.

"But you'll do better than try." Jaime faced him fully. "You'll be a good father to your child and show them the right way to rule. I believe you two can give that child that sort of wisdom."

"If that child gets any wisdom, it'll be from its mother." Jon chuckled, making Jaime laugh as well. They fell into a long silence as they stopped their walking, overlooking the soldiers camp.

"Do you think you can do it when the time comes?" Jon asked suddenly.

"Do what?"

"Kill Cersei," He answered emotionless. "You know it can only end one way or another."

Jaime thought of his question for a brief moment before answering, "You don't know what it's like, Jon. To love someone so much, someone that you shouldn't. And to have everyone hate you for it, even when you know it's wrong. And you still, you can't help but love them anyway."

Jon swallowed hard before taking a deep breath, "I do."

Jaime snickered a little, "Incest between Targaryens isn't exactly uncommon."

"I'm not talking about Dany."

Jaime froze when he saw how Jon immediately tense up at his words, "What happened to her?"

Jon looked up to the sky and smiled weakly, "A friend of mine once told me that 'love is the death of duty.' I didn't realize what that meant until I was put in a situation where I realized it."

Jaime perked up a little, stepping closer, "And what did you choose?"

Jon stood deep in thought before sighing, "I wasn't given a choice. And it was probably for the best that I didn't."

"Why's that?"

"Because I don't know what I would've done and I don't know I would've been able to live with myself from either choice." Jon turned around and clapped a hand on Jaime's shoulder. "When the moment comes, you'll know."

And with that, he walks back down the paved path back to the castle, leaving Jaime more conflicted than ever.

Jon made his way inside his chambers, trying to be as light as possible not to wake her. As soon as he slipped in bed with her, she reacted. Her arm reached out, and she pulled herself closer, snuggling up to him.

"You're here," Daenerys said, her voice sleepy.

"Of course, no place I'd rather be," He kissed the top of her head as she smiled and clutched at his now bare chest.

"Are you ready?" She asked him.

"Are you?"

"As long as I have you and our little family, I'm ready for anything."

"You do," He kissed her forehead once more. "Always."

Jon held her closer to him under the sheets. They were practically intertwined at this point.

"Goodnight, Dany."

"Sleep well, my love." She draped a leg over him, and Jon felt at home.


	10. IX.|For Whom The Bell Tolls.

" _Issa brōzi iksos Jon Targaryen_."

" _Issa...brōzi... iksos... Jon Targaryen,_ " Jon repeated after Daenerys, letting the words roll off his tongue a little slower than he'd like. The candles begin to dim in the tent as the night wind whipped through. They weren't that far away from King's Landing, a few days away from it to be exact. The journey was far from pleasant. They marched to the south endlessly and restlessly, wearing themselves out. But it was times like this that made it bearable where they could just be themselves, just Jon and Dany.

" _Sȳz,_ " Daenerys smiled at him. "How about, " _Avy jorrāelan_?"'

" _Avy... jorrāelan."_

 _"_ _Sȳz."_

"And what does that mean?"

Daenerys' smile widened as she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against his lips, letting the warm furry blanket slip down her torso. She pulled back slightly and ran her hand through his hair. "It means, 'I love you."

Jon chuckled a little while wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer. His eyes reached her belly and smiled at the growing bump that resided there. It amazed him every day to know that it was his child growing inside of her every day. A beautiful innocent life, just waiting to come out and be loved by them. He never thought that this would be possible. He never thought that this would be his life, but here he was. And he couldn't be happier.

"How are you feeling?" she placed her hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her.

"Better," He smiled as he leaned into her touch. He placed a soft kiss on the palm of her hand. Silence fell over them, letting a poignant moment fade away. They both knew what was on the other's mind, but were too afraid to speak out on it.

"Cersei can't win," Daenerys said solemnly, letting her gaze meet his once more. "She's cunning and ruthless. We have to be prepared for anything she has planned for us." Daenerys wasn't just a queen; she was a conqueror. Her heart was still pure, of course, but she wouldn't let that become her weakness. There was too much at stake for her to be anything less than robust and strong. This was a chance to bring her family name from the ashes and let it be reborn into something formidable. And she wasn't going to let this chance go away quickly this time.

"If we don't kill her, our child will never be safe," She whispered, placing her hand on the small bulge on her stomach area. "And I refuse to lose this child."

"We won't, Dany," Jon shook his head before pressing his forehead against hers. "I won't let that happen. _We_ won't let that happen."

She let her hand glide his cheek, feeling the stubble against her skin, "But I refuse to lose you as well, my love. Once was enough."

Jon bent down and nuzzled their noses together, kissing her lips chastely, "It's a good thing that I have you to protect me out there."

Daenerys rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless, "Always."

He leaned back against the furry comforter and made sure she was flush against his chest. Her fingers bumped against the scars that resided there as his hands glided over her belly. He placed his chin over her head, breathing her scent. He wanted to enjoy this moment with her, with their child. His life had changed so much in such little time that he barely had time to process it. He couldn't help but feel like he had finally made it, to a point in his life where he would be free from everything he's been trying to escape.

"Everything is about to change," Daenerys whispered, placing a kiss on one of his scars. "Nothing will ever be the same."

"This is everything you've worked for," He mumbled against her forehead. "You should be proud."

"I am proud," She chuckled breathlessly. "But I would be even more proud if I had a king to rule beside me."

"I'm not a king, Dany. It's not who I am, and I can't keep pretending to be," He sighed, mulling over his words. "I'm a fighter. That's all I've ever done is fight. I've died fighting, and I don't know when I'll ever stop. But I can't be the ruler the Seven Kingdoms need me to be. They need you." His hands grazed over her belly once more, "Our child needs you."

"Jon..." she whispers, shaking her head. "I can't fight this...darkness inside of me."

The very thought of Cersei made her blood boil. It was like an itch in the back of her mind that told her to just...burn them all. Burn them all. She had tried to keep that part of her buried, but she didn't know how long she could do that. She didn't know what it would take to make her snap finally, and that was terrifying to her.

"You can, and you will," Jon said. "I believe in you."

"Jon..."

"You're my queen," He shushed her, kissing her forehead once more. "You will always be my queen."

Daenerys looked up at him and stared into his eyes that were filled with so much love and passion, all driven towards her. He loved her with everything in him. Nothing could ever change that, and nothing could stop them from saving each other from themselves.

"And you will always be my love."

She grazed his chin and pulled him down slightly to mesh her lips against his. They didn't say anything afterward. There was nothing left to say. Gone was the urgency from before. The desperation had morphed into stoic acceptance. Reality lay outside of their room, outside of their embrace. And they weren't about to take a step towards it until they were forced to do so. But, yet again, they were forced to accept that the moment was not made to last.

* * *

The moment was finally among them, the battle for the Seven Kingdoms was here.

The Golden Company and the mixed army had an intense staredown, waiting for the others to flinch. The silence was haunting, almost intimidating. The Golden Company stood tall and firm, confident in their numbers. The Northmen, Dothraki, and Unsullied looked the same, despite their loss of soldiers. They believed in their rulers. They thought that they were going to live to fight another day, and that was good enough in their mind.

Euron Greyjoy waited patiently on his ship, knowing that the dragons were bound to show up sooner or later. The scorpions were locked and loaded, prepared to end the era of the dragons once and for all. He had been waiting for this moment, a moment to let his name go down in history and be a legend that would spread across Westeros.

"Don't you fuckers let your guard down," He roared, pacing back and forth. "They'll be here. I know it."

And then, suddenly, his ships around him began to rumble. Euron nearly trips on his own two feet, trying to regain his balance. His gaze immediately looks down at the water and sees a small foam of bubble forming around his ship. His eyes widened in shock and realization, but by then, it's too late. A gigantic figure emerged from under the water, massive waves of it overwhelming the ships.

"Get down!" Euron yelled, watching as the ships began to burn within seconds. "Get down!"

And it was like the signal of the beginning of the battle. Another roar rang in the air and from the sky arrived Drogon, letting the flames burst from his throat once more. The two magnificent beasts were taking out the ships left and right before turning their attention to the scorpions that continued to rain fire on them. Daenerys knew the risks of those bolts. If one was able to land a hit, it could be fatal for either of her children. But Daenerys wouldn't let that happen. She was prepared this time. She wasn't going to lose anyone this time.

Jon looked up from the battlefield every chance he got, making sure that she was safe from any harm. He knew that she was capable of handling herself, but a part of him will always worry about her. After all, that was his job as her husband.

The battle on the ground wasn't so pleasant. Thousands of men and horses collided, immediately turning it into a blood bath. Arrows were being shot from over the wall, taking down horses and men along the way. Brienne could be seen cutting down the men left and right. She tensed up when she felt Podrick behind her, protecting his friend at any cost. Although she was grateful for his help, there was another man she wanted behind her, a man she held dear to her heart. They hadn't spoken to each other since last night under the sheets of a lover's embrace.

The night repeats in her head, over and over again, like a melody. It was her first time, and it was special. It was beautiful as it should be. But she knew that his mind lingered elsewhere now and then. It was for this particular moment right here. She knew how hard it would be for him to go through with this, but she said nothing about it. There was nothing to say about it. She trusted Jaime; she trusted him with her life and her heart. She knew that he would come up with the right decision one way or the other.

Daenerys continued to destroy the scorpions, making sure she left no stone unturned. And then suddenly, she heard a roar—a roar of pain.

She looked to her side, and Rhaegal was there, bleeding profusely. Her heart started to beat faster at the sight, watching as he plummeted to the ground. A bolt was lodged to his side, wounding him. Jon's eyes widen at his companions fall as he landed at the outside of the castle walls with a gigantic thud. His eyes looked at the beasts, and he saw that he still some fight left in him. But not for long. He had to survive this; he had to.

"No," Daenerys whispered angrily, shaking her head. "No, no, no."

It was at that moment, Jon could feel something snap inside his wife. Even Jorah could as he stood beside him. He could feel her pain no matter how far apart they were. Daenerys felt how the rage pulses through her veins as she looks over the last scorpion to see the city. More men were occupying the streets, ready to fight for when the shoulders got through the gate. The wall was defenseless, and nothing was stopping them from taking what was hers. But that rage, that rage was telling her something different.

To hell with the bell...

_Burn them all._  
_Burn them all._  
_Burn them all._

It's an impulse, she tells herself. It's just a nasty impulse she needs to get under control. But Cersei knew how to do that to her. Her patience with the woman had worn out. She didn't handle emotions well, and in this situation, it was no different. She would make them pay, and she would make their queen pay for all of the pain and sorrow she put her through. The lies and manipulation, she would pay for all of this.

With one last look at the soldier manning the scorpion and to the tower where her enemy resided, she whispered, "Dracarys."

* * *

Cersei watched as the Dragon Queen burned down the front gates of the castle. They had broken through, and their numbers were still standing strong. She was never one to admit to defeat or fear, but she was indeed terrified. Though she had an extra trick up her sleeves, she didn't expect them to get this far. She thought that the Golden Company could hold them off long enough for her to execute the rest of her plans. But now she saw that she would have to move things just a little further ahead.

"Your Grace?" Quyburn's voice whispered from behind her, snapping her back into reality.

"One down, one more to go," Cersei said coincidentally. "We just need one more good shot, and the war is won."

"The scorpions have all been destroyed, Your Grace," Quyburn admitted, his head hung low.

Cersei clenched her fists tightly, looking down at the raging fire that burned beyond the wall. Their men were coming close to colliding once more, and they were outnumbered. She knew that the Greyjoy fleet was consumed and smoked out by the queen's dragons. It didn't matter; she had the upper hand regardless. She had the power to ring the bells, not her men. She would not admit defeat, and she would not surrender.

"Continue with our plans, Quyburn," She said through gritted teeth. "We will not lose the Red Keep today."

"As you wish."

Gregor Clegane looked down at the battlefield with piqued interest, watching his brother take down the men that surrounded him. He couldn't help but let an irritated grunt escape his lips at the sight. The battle of the Clegane brothers was coming close, and it was nearly upon them. And he was ready for it. Without saying a word, as usual, he turned around and walked out of the room, prepared to face his destiny. But not before taking down someone with him.

Meanwhile, Jaime continues to walk through the collapsing walls of the Red Keep, thoughts running through his head rapidly. He knew he shouldn't be here; he knows he should be down there with Brienne. Thoughts of their night together lingered in his brain. He longed for more nights like that, where he could hold her in his arms and keep her close. He never wanted to let her go ever again. But thoughts of his conversation with Jon Targaryen lingered in his mind as well.

_"When the time comes, you'll know."_

But he didn't. He didn't know what to do next, and that's what was so terrifying to him.

Cersei meant everything to him. She was his world. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her, and maybe that's what all came down to in the end. There was no life he wouldn't end, no risk he wouldn't take to get back to her. Olenna was right; she had corrupted him beyond reason. And deep down, he knew that. She was hateful and despicable, but still, he loved her. She gave him children, and another child to be born. Even if she didn't deserve to live, that innocent little life deserved that chance. He had to get through to her. He had to.

Jaime stops short when he hears an extra footstep behind him.

He turns around to see Arya Stark, staring at him intensely with her hand on the hilt of her dagger.

"What are you doing here?"

Arya's grip grew tighter, her eyes never leaving him, "I'm here to kill the queen if you can't get her to end this madness."

Jaime could only nod at that. He could only hope that he would be able to do so. She knew that she needed this, as well. Cersei murdered the majority of her family, with his help nonetheless. She couldn't help the hatred she felt for his family, nor could he fault her for it. Still, if there was a way he could prevent this from getting messier, he's going to take it.

"I know a shorter way," Jaime nudged his head down the hall, and she begrudgingly followed him.

They walked down the hall in silence, neither of them sparing a glance or a word to each other. Not even when she passed the room where she trained with Syrio Forel. She remembered the first time she held up that wooden sword, the first time she landed a hit on him. The pivotal moment of her life happened in this very room, and she would never forget it. They continue to walk up the long stone stairs that led them to the queen's chambers. He stopped at the mahogany door, afraid of what was on the other side.

"Well?" Arya pressed, waiting for him to make a move.

"Give me a moment alone with her," Jaime said suddenly, turning to face her once more. "If I'm in there for too long, you come in. Okay?"

Arya stares at him for a moment, wondering if she could truly trust him. Until finally, she gives him a curt nod, and he slowly walks in.

He sees her back turned to him with Qyburn's lifeless body by her feet, staring at the raging flames beyond the wall. The people were still safe; no screams of innocent lives were heard yet. There was still time to end this. Cersei turns slowly to faces him, and a lump immediately forms in his throat. It had been months since he'd last seen her face, her stoic, poised face. She was different to him. It was like a part of her was gone, wholly emotionless and numb to anything that came her way.

"Cersei," Jaime approaches her slowly, holding a hand up. "This isn't going to end well. You need to ring the bells."

To his surprise, she chuckles softly as she shakes her head at him, "I guess you really are the stupidest Lannister."

He stops short for a moment before taking the time to walk past her and gesture to the carnage down on the battlefield, "Your men are dying, your soldiers are dying. And if you keep at it, your people will die too. I know you aren't that cold, Cersei."

Her grin widens as she steps closer to him, placing a soft hand on his forearm. He couldn't help but shiver under her touch.

"Fuck anyone who isn't us," She whispers before moving a hand to his cheek. "We're the only ones that matter."

And then suddenly, he sees a flicker of green flames in her eyes and rumble beneath his feet. He didn't have to look behind him to know what was going on. His gaze falters as he hears the explosions occurring behind him, wildfire, no doubt. So that's what she had planned. Get the armies inside to be able to take them out. She didn't care who got caught between the crosshairs. She just wanted to win the war.

* * *

Buildings around them were falling apart as the battle had begun to slow down. Men from both sides of the fight were falling to their demise, flames quickly surrounding them. Jon could see Davos on the other side of the field, staring at each other without words. They both knew what they were saying; they had to get the people out of the city. They could see some Lannister soldiers helping the common folk evacuate, and Jon immediately did the same, barking out orders to his men to fall back and help with the process.

Daenerys didn't know how long she had been staring at the city, nor did she care. She watched as the people around her were scurrying away in fear, afraid for their lives. She knew that they were afraid of her, fearful of what a foreigner might do to them. She hadn't even attacked them, though the dark voice in the back of her mind told her to do so. Rhaegal's fall had taken a toll on her in a short amount of time. She could only hope that he survived it because she surely wouldn't if he didn't.

She wanted to rule, but not like this. She wanted to be a good queen, the greatest queen; the Seven Kingdoms has ever witnessed. She wanted to be loved, admired and respected by all. But she didn't see the love. She saw the fear, and that was the last thing she wanted to give the people. Daenerys wished to be their beacon of hope, and right now, she was one of the only people who could give that to her. She knew what she had to do next; she would have to stop this battle to make sure that the people got out of this chaos.

Daenerys saw Jon's eyes meet hers through the chaos, and they shared a moment of understanding. The battle was over, the people's safety came first. She slowly slid off Drogon, telling her men to fall back and evacuate the people. Grey Worm commanded his men to yield as Jorah did the same for the Dothraki. She did not come all this way to be Queen of the Ashes; she came to liberate them. And she was going to make sure she sees this through.

Sandor continues to cut down the men who continued to fight with ease, not losing energy from them. And then, he stops short when he sees his brother staring back at him, a Dothraki falling to his feet. Their eyes were locked for a significant moment, knowing exactly what both of them wanted. They wasted no time clashing. The two brothers weren't going to stop until the other was dead, nothing was going to get in their way this time.

They fought brutally, each landing a crucial blow to each other. It was everything Sandor imagined to be. He knew it could only end one way or the other, with his death or his brother's. He didn't mind either of those options, but he preferred to live.

"Sandor!" He heard a voice yell, turning slightly to see Brienne hurrying down to help him.

The soldier to Brienne's left was the first to strike before his hand could fully reach out to her; his hand was cut off. The man yelled and writhed in pain, blood gushing onto the dirt. Brienne's head whipped quickly to the two men charging at her. She promptly slashed at one of the men's legs, causing him to fall. The other swung his sword, only for his attack to be blocked. Without hesitation, she took the opportunity to send her secondary weapon through his throat before yanking it out quickly. The fight was brutal and bloody. She turned to see Sandor on the verge of death, disarmed with Gregor approaching him.

Sandor was on the ground, bleeding and broken. He knew that he was going to die. It was inevitable. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to die as well.

He looked over to see a sword by burning rubble, just inches away from his touch. He knew what had to be done, and honestly, he didn't mind. He had nothing else to lose at this point. Without hesitation, he grabbed the sword despite the flames and turned around quickly to behead his brother. It slides off slowly before his large body slumps over to the side.

The Hound looks at his brother's figure and Brienne's shocked face before collapsing beside his brother's corpse. He never so tired and broken in his entire life, but he was also victorious. And that was more than enough.

"Help!" A delicate voice yells, catching Davos' attention. He looks to the side to find a house burning with a little girl helplessly crawling out. Her leg was broken, most likely from the falling debris. She wouldn't be able to get far with her condition. He didn't know why, but as he looked at the young girl's eyes, thoughts of Princess Shireen entered his mind. The little girl that he loved as her own that he swore to protect had died because he wasn't around. He would've stopped it; he would've saved her with every fiber in his being if he had to. He would've given his own life if it came down to it. He owed that girl everything and saw this as an opportunity to write a wrong.

He runs inside and picks up the girl in his arms and rushes out as the building completely collapses. Davos looks around the burning city, wondering if there was any way they could get out of this hell.

* * *

Jaime watched Brienne as she continued to fight. His heart was pulling him in so many directions that he didn't know what to do. But he knew one thing for sure. He didn't want Brienne to die. He loved her, and he knew that now. A part of him always knew that, but that stubborn of him wouldn't admit it. Because that stubborn part of him couldn't let go of Cersei.

He watched her as a wicked grin hit her lips, smiling as she heard the screams of their people, "It's glorious, isn't it?"

She was still in his embrace as the fight waged on. He couldn't bear to let her go just yet. His gaze lowered to her belly, revealing the small bump underneath her dress. The child, the very foundation of their love for each other. But it was like Jon told him, love was the death of duty. Just like duty was the death of love.

He closed his eyes tightly, knowing what he had to do next.

Cersei slowly turned to him, and their gazes locked, saying much without words. Jaime slowly leaned in and latched his lips onto hers as he pulled her close. She was taken aback for a small moment before kissing him back. The kiss was filled with desperation and anger as he branded her with all of his love. He wanted this to last for as long as it could last. But he knew deep down that it wasn't to.

And then, before Cersei knew it, she felt a sharp pain in her stomach area. She slowly looked down and saw the dagger wedged inside of her. She was becoming pale before his eyes as he eased her to the ground. He looked at her with tears filling his eyes, and she stared back with the same emotion. He felt her warm blood coat his hands as he felt the life slowly fade out of her.

"I just wanted a better world for him..." Cersei whispered, putting a hand on top of his. "I really did."

"I know," Jaime whispered back, placing a kiss on her forehead. "I know."

Her breathing grew slower and slower before it stopped.

Cersei Lannister was dead.

Arya slowly approached them and took in the scene. Jamie didn't look back at her; he couldn't. The moment was too much for him to handle. He left her there, lifeless and still. He looked down at the scene and closed his eyes once more, taking a huge breath. And he felt a swell of relief wash over him as he heard the bells ring, signaling the end of the battle.

* * *

Arya looked around to see the soldiers celebrate their victory. The men that surrendered were bent down on one knee, waiting for their fates to be decided. The moment was quite bittersweet. It didn't take her too long to find Sandor, nearly on the clutches of death. He didn't have a lot of time left, and Arya saw that. She bent down beside him, sadly smiling at him.

"I got the fucker," He laughed a little before choking up a little. "I cleared my list."

Arya looked over to see the headless corpse and couldn't help but laugh a little too, "Yeah, you did."

He kept his hand on the open wound on his stomach, keeping the bleeding at bay. The warm blood seeped through his fingers, but he didn't rightly care. He got wanted. Arya leaned over and wiped the blood the seamed past his lips and ran a soothing hand through his hair.

"Don't be like me," Hound said, his hand covering hers. He coughed a wet, guttural sound from deep within his lungs. "Don't let revenge consume you. Live your life; be happy. Get married, maybe have a kid or two. Don't let anything stop you."

Arya turned slightly to see Jon running to Daenerys, who wasted no time jumping in his arms. He embraced her and immediately kissed her as if he was afraid to let her go. This day had been hard on everyone, no one more than them. They deserved this moment to recuperate. Jon and Sansa were the only family she had left, including Daenerys. It was her job to protect from them from any harm and anyone who threatened their happiness. Still, that didn't mean that she couldn't find happiness of her own.

"I promise," Arya nodded curtly. "I'll make something happen."

"Good," He smiled at her, a real smile that she never thought she would see. He held her hands to his face and closed his eyes, muttering under his breath, "You know what you have to do."

Arya nodded again, solemnly this time. She slowly took her dagger and gently pressed it against his neck, "Thank you, Sandor."

And then she slowly entered the dagger inside of his neck, watching the life fade out of his eyes. Arya just sat there with him, taking in the loss of her friend.

Jon watched as Daenerys approached Rhaegal, watching breathe in and out so that he could recover from his injury. Thankfully, the Dothraki were quick enough to extract the bolt. She let out a sigh relief as she rubbed a delicate hand against his arm, grateful that fine at the moment. She turned slightly to see Jon behind her once more, pulling her in his arms.

She sighed when she felt his soft lips brush against her forehead, his hands reaching down to touch her belly, "Dany..."

She looked up and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her forehead against his, "Jon...I was..."

He stopped her short, pulling her close, "It's alright. Everything's alright. I'm not going anywhere."

She was the only thing that mattered to him now, her and their child. They had won the war and survived the other. Now, they had to look forward to the next task at hand; the Iron Throne.


	11. X.| Our Reign Has Just Begun.

The war was over, and Daenerys Targaryen won.

Her eyes landed on her prize and couldn't help the swell of pride that hit her chest. She was close, so close that she could feel the cold iron brushing against her fingertips. She leaned closer and closer until finally, she touched it. It was hers. It was finally hers. She had accomplished the goal that most thoughts were impossible. But she always had faith in herself, and that was more than enough. No matter what happens next, no one could take this moment away from her. Her lips twitched into a small smile as she heard familiar footsteps follow behind her.

"I thought it would be bigger," Daenerys said, a soft laugh brushing past her lips. "When I was a little girl, my brother told me it was made with a thousand swords of Aegon's fallen enemies."

Jon smiled as well, remembering her utter those same words in the vision his brother showed not too long ago. He knew them by heart by now.

She turned to face him and began to walk down the small set of stairs, "What did a thousand swords look like for a girl who couldn't even count to twenty?"

"I never thought I would get to see it," Jon said as he arrived by her side. "What was the use of dreaming about a throne a bastard could never sit on?" He took Daenerys' hands in his and brushed his fingers over the back of her knuckles.

"You were never a bastard," She whispered, lacing her fingers through his. "You were always meant for more."

He knew that she wanted him to rule by her side, that she wanted his help to give the people the rulers that they deserved. But deep down, it didn't change the fact that Jon didn't see himself as a king. Even when his people wanted him to be 'King in the North,' he didn't want to accept. But he wanted to help them, and he couldn't refuse that. This was different. It wouldn't be just the North he would have to worry about, it was the entire Seven Kingdoms that would be resting on his shoulder, and he didn't know if he could handle that. But he knew Daenerys would. She was born for this.

"I've heard about what a throne does to a man, how it corrupts you, and changes who you are," Jon smiled weakly at her as he shook his head. "I know that you're capable of handling it, but I don't think I am."

"Jon..."

He leaned closer and placed a hand over her swollen belly, his smile extending at the sight, "Our child would be lucky to have you as their mother. He or she doesn't know how blessed they will be to follow in your footsteps."

"Our footsteps," Daenerys corrected him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He leaned his forehead against hers and breathed in her scent. "I chose you to spend the rest of my days with. I chose you to be the father of my child. I chose you to fight by my side to take back what is ours. And now, I choose you to rule with me. I don't want to do this without you."

Jon's eyes met hers, and it was as if everything was so simple. She made everything seem that way. They were the last of the Targaryens, and their child would continue on their legacy. He didn't understand how she always made him see the right in things when all he saw was the opposite. He didn't know how he became so lucky with a woman like her, but he knew that he would never take her for granted.

With that in mind, he cupped her cheek in his hands and brushed his lips against hers, branding her with all of his love. He would never leave her or their child. He would stay by her side until she orders him away. He was entirely and utterly bent to her will. And that was alright for him. And yet, this was one thing he would never change his mind on.

"I love you, and you will always be my queen," Jon whispers as he pulls back. "But one Targaryen on the throne is more than enough. _You_ are more than enough."

She opens her mouth to speak but is quickly interrupted.

"Your Grace," A throat cleared from the doorway, and they looked up to see Jorah with a careful smile playing on his lips, "I believe it's time for you to meet the people."

She looks at Jon and takes a deep breath.

He places a firm hand on her shoulder and gives her an encouraging smile, "You can do this."

And just like that, her worries were instantly washed away.

The people of King's Landing slowly began to crowd the large throne room, watching as they were staring at her with blank expressions. She remembered the first look they gave her, and it was a pleasant change at the moment. Deep down, she knew that they would always fear her in some way. She had two full-grown dragons that could quickly burn the city with her command, and she had an army who would kill anyone without question. Not to mention that in their eyes, she was a foreign invader.

"I know what you all think of me," Daenerys started, the roars of her "And I'm not the monster Cersei has made me out to be. I only came to take back what was stolen from my family and me. I know that my father was an evil man, but I am nothing like him. I don't want to harm either of you. You have suffered enough from the grips of tyrants. Today, you are free. The wheel is broken, and now, I reign."

And as a silent moment washed over them, it quickly passed when every one of them bowed respectfully. They chanted her name as her two dragons roars erupted in the air. She was their Queen, the Queen that they needed, the Queen that they deserved.

Daenerys turned around and let her hand rest on her swollen belly, her bump growing more evident by her dress. Her eyes landed on her prize once more, and she was done waiting. Slowly, but surely, she sat down on her throne and felt the cold iron brush against the skin of her wrists. She felt something on the top of her head, a crown she was sure. She didn't pay it any mind; she was never really big on crowns.

"All hail Queen Daenerys! Long may she reign!"

_Long may she reign!_

* * *

Jon and Daenerys were in the Queen's chambers, on the bed, gasping for breath as their kisses grew more and more frenzied. Torches were lit throughout the entire city, sounds of cheers and laughter filling the air as they celebrated their new Queen and king. It was indeed a joyous event, seeing everyone come together after the momentous battle. Daenerys wanted it last for a long time, and if she had any say in the matter, it would.

Meanwhile, she was surely going to enjoy this moment with her king.

Daenerys gently yet surely kissed his lips, gliding her hands up and down his chiseled chest. He let out a groan, and that only pushed her harder. Her hands were running up and down his back as he soon moved his lips from his mouth to his neck and sucked on the area right behind her ear, which drove her insane. He traveled farther to her collarbone and licked down onto her chest, his hands roaming over her bump.

He began kissing down her body before reaching her hips.

He groaned again, but it was one of pleasure instead of frustration. She continued to kiss and touch, anywhere she could. She took advantage of his bare chest and licked at his skin. She pushed him against the bed, straddling his waist. Jon brought her face to his, kissing her hard.

Daenerys dipped her head and began lightly pecking his shoulders, collarbone, and neck with wet lips. She could feel Jon's manhood between her legs, growing harder with each passing second, and she loved that she could affect him that way. She slowly inched down his body, from his shoulders to his chest, his chest to his stomach, his stomach to his hips. She slowly dragged her tongue along his hipbone.

"Dany..."

He tried to pull her back up to him, but she wanted to go further south, and she wasn't planning on moving just yet. She inched slowly down his muscular body and felt each sinew roll under her touch. Jon was hard and proud all over, especially where she wanted him to be. Jon snatched her entire body back up and held her face in her strong hands. He had a look of determination, but she could see the lust swirling around in his eyes.

"You don't have to do this," he ground out. She could tell that he wanted her to continue, but his honor was battling his libido.

"You've done it for me," Daenerys stated.

"Because I wanted to," he argued.

"Well, so do I. Now stop fighting me."

"But…"

He opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him with a quick kiss. She continued to stroke him the whole time, and she heard him growl in the back of his throat as my fingers gently massaged him.

"I think my body will collapse if you do that," he whispered. "Just the thought of it is too much for me."

"Good, that's very good," Daenerys chuckled and kissed his hipbone again. "Now, relax."

She started her circuit back down his body until she was positioned between his legs.

She made sure his eyes were open, and he hissed as he watched her.

"Gods..." It was so much fun witnessing him squirm because it never happened.

He was gripping the headboard of the bed, his head thrown back. She suspected that if he had to watch, he'd collapse sooner than he wanted. Jon was already thick and pulsing, and she bet it was painful. But this was only the beginning. Daenerys used the grip on the base of his member to steady him as she took just his sensitive head into her mouth. She then started licking his tip over and over, occasionally twisting her tongue around it. She knew that would drive Jon insane, and she was proven right when he almost broke the headboard under his hands.

She hummed huskily around him.

At this point, Jon couldn't control himself anymore. He was lying flush against the bed with his hands gripping the headboard for some form of stability. He hissed like a snake as she continued to lick his tip gently. She gripped his shaft with a little more force, and his mouth suddenly worked again.

"Please, please…" he whispered in a voice that she had to strain to hear. "Please."

His face was incredibly conflicted. He was battling with telling her the truth or just taking control of the situation and plunging into her, but she wasn't going to let that happen because she was in control, and she wanted it to stay that way. She kept a steady level of suction as she continued to bob and move her tongue around. She let her hands glide up near his chest as she lifted herself to a better position, feeling his scars bump against her fingertips.

Jon started gasping, desperately trying to get his breathing back to normal. It sounded like he was drowning. His hands clenched on the headboard a little tighter before it completely cracked under his grasp. And that was when she released him, leaving him high and dry. He had a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead; his cheeks were flushed red.

Daenerys climbed up his body and hovered over him as he leaned against the headboard, her face inches away from him, "Are you done yet, my king?"

"Enough teasing," Jon whispered forcefully, pulling her back to the same length as him.

She cupped his face in her hands and began to trace small kisses along his jawline and neck, brutally continuing her teasing, "I thought you craved for the wait."

Jon entered her slowly, leaning down to meet her lips as she adjusted to accommodate him.

"Not tonight," He growled against her neck.

"Oh...gods." She panted, urging him deeper as she plunged herself over him again. Jon groaned as the motion forced him to enter her completely, and their cries of pleasure were sweet and quiet but said everything they wanted them to.

They continued their movement, whispering each other's name over and over as she wrapped her arms around his neck, giving herself to him. The only sounds in the room were their moans, and the sound of their skin slapping against each other while cheers could still be heard outside.

"God, I can't get enough of you," Daenerys whispered urgently as his lips stayed on her neck. Their movements became frantic.

Jon thinks he said something back, but he couldn't tell. He felt the muscles in his stomach tighten as his hand grabbed the base of her neck, continuing his assault with his lips. A flicker flashed behind his closed eyes as he came violently, grunting into her bare shoulder and grabbing onto her back to hold her close. Their thrusts slowed as Jon began pressing soft kisses to every inch of her face, and they rode out or orgasms together. Exhausted, they both groaned and collapsed onto the warm blanket. Daenerys crawled over a little and laid her head against his chest. Jon wrapped his arms around her waist and cuddled against her.

"That was..."

"Incredible," Daenerys finished, laughing under her breath.

"Indeed," Jon took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "It's what we needed."

"Tired?" She teased, pressing a quick kiss to his chest. He couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Not at all, your majesty."

Daenerys' smile slowly faded as she looked at his hand, noticing the ring on his finger. Aegon's ring; the ring of the true ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. She didn't mind that he didn't want the throne; it wasn't suited for everyone. It bothered her because she didn't know why, and that Jon would be a good ruler. He always had a way with people, a way to bring them together even through hard times. Being king would be effortless for him.

"You would make a great ruler, you know?" Daenerys whispered, brushing a kiss against his knuckles. "I don't understand why you don't want it."

"Shouldn't that make you happy?"

"It should, but I just want you to be sure about this. It's your birthright, Jon."

Jon sighed and looked down at her, "I may know how to lead men into battle, but I don't know how to rule an entire country. I've never seen myself on a throne, and that hasn't changed. It's never what I wanted."

"And what do you want?"

"Peace," he whispered, rubbing a hand over her belly. "Safety for our unborn child and the women, men, and children to come. That's all I've ever wanted."

"I think we've accomplished that for the moment."

"Good," Jon mumbled, feeling his eyes grow heavier. He wrapped his arm back around her waist and pulled her closer, not wanting to sleep apart. "It's a start."

"You are my king," she said suddenly. "Now and always."

Jon opened one eye and grinned sleepily, "Are you certain?"

"There's no one else I would have rule by my side."

"Alright," He squeezed the flesh of her hips with his hand. "Then I'm yours."

Daenerys looked down at him and watched as he slowly fell asleep, smiling sadly at him. They both knew that it was far from over, but they wouldn't speak on it. Not now, at least. This was a victory. After all the friends and allies they had lost to get here, it was a moment worth celebrating. She rested her hand against his cheek for a moment before laying her head beside his, finally resting side by side.

* * *

The next few weeks in King's Landing were peaceful, joyful even. The people accepted Daenerys and Jon with open arms and was fascinated by how impactful their leadership was. Watching over these people brought a strange sort of comfort to her life. It brought up memories of how she was in Dragon's Bay, and how she raised an army with such little time on her hands. This was different, of course, now that she had Jon by her side. But it still filled her heart with pride.

Jon walked by her side as he led her to the throne, helping her settle down upon it. She never looked more beautiful in his eyes. Her pregnancy was doing wonders on her. She was genuinely glowing, and he never failed to tell her that every day. It wouldn't be long until they would hold their bundle of joy in their arms, and he couldn't wait. But deep down, a part of him was afraid. He knew what was coming, and unfortunately, he would have to prepare his child for it.

The throne room was crowded by Jon and Daenerys' closest allies, staring at her intently. Jorah, Missandei, and Grey Worm were on one side of her while Ser Davos and Samwell were on the other. Jaime and Brienne were in the back, his arm in the crook of hers as Podrick and Bronn stood by them. Sansa and Arya were standing in the middle while Yara and Theon made their appearance from the entrance along with Tyrion and Varys. She had called everyone down for an important meeting, and it was time to start moving things ahead.

The Unsullied and Dothraki stood firm in the throne room, waiting for their Queen's command. Sansa looked around and was in awe at how quickly the people were captivated by her. Her men were free, liberators even. They were done with war, and now they could finally live their lives as she promised. That didn't change how their loyalty for her; it never would. She would have their protection until her dying breath. In some weird form, it made Sansa envious of that and also admired her.

"Thank you, everyone, for taking the time to be here," Daenerys started. "I know that the journey couldn't have been pleasant, so I will make this as painless as possible."

"Why are we here?" Sansa grounded out.

"Because we have matters to discuss concerning the Seven Kingdoms," She said cooly, not bothered by Sansa's clipped tone.

Her eyes reached Sam's first as she gestured him to come in front of her, "Samwell Tarly. I know I am not the ruler you chose."

"Uh," He began to stutter with his words, but Daenerys held up a hand to stop her.

"Save it, I don't take it personally," She shrugged her shoulders. "Half of the people in this room don't want to see me on the throne, including people I trust."

"I give you and House Tarly Highgarden, as an apology for the fate of your father and brother," Daenerys stated, making his mouth open a little in shock. "I know it doesn't make everything better, but it's a start."

"You're too kind, Your Grace."

"It was Jon's idea. He deserves your appreciation more than I do," She suddenly felt a sharp kick to her belly and took in a deep breath. Jon was instantly by her side, not missing a beat. Jorah couldn't help himself as well.

"What's wrong?" He asked her, examining her as if she was a wounded child. "Is it the baby?"

"It's nothing," she forced a smile, placing a kiss on the back of Jon's hand. "Just a little kick, that's all."

"If this is too much for you..." Jorah began, but Daenerys waved it off.

"I'm fine, you two," She sighed before turning her attention back to the task at hand. Jon and Jorah share a look of concern but decide not to worry about it any longer. For now, at least.

"Yara," Daenerys began, watching as she stepped forward. "You helped me regain the Iron Islands, and have been a valuable asset and ally on my side. As a token of my appreciation, I bring you a gift."

Yara's brow furrowed in confusion as she watches her Queen give Grey Worm a curt nod. After a few moments, she sees an Unsullied soldier come from the side of the hallway where he has a broken Euron Greyjoy in his grasp. He looks beaten and broken, nearly burnt to a crisp. His eyes were glazed over as if we're out of it, and Yara stared at him with a gaze full of hatred. The Unsullied threw him at her feet, and he landed with a soft thud.

"We found him barely alive on one of the burning ships after the battle," Daenerys stated. "I leave his fate in your hands, Lady Yara."

Yara grins as she grips onto the chains that were connected to the cuffs on his wrists, "Thank you, my Queen. Believe me when I tell you that his fate is in good hands."

"I don't doubt that."

"Grey Worm," Daenerys smiled at him as he moved from Missandei's side and stood in front of her. "You have been by my side since the Plaza of Pride. You are the bravest of men, the most loyal of soldiers, and I'm honored to call you my friend. I name you commander of all my forces, the Queen's Master of War."

Grey Worm speaks without words and gives her a nod and a smile, both knowing what they were saying to each other. He was grateful to her always. There was so much she had done for him. Fighting her enemies in her name was the least he could do.

Her eyes landed on Jaime's, his gaze remaining solemn. Without speaking to him directly, he walks away from Brienne's side and faces the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

"Jaime Lannister," Daenerys started, her expression a little too calm for his liking. "I didn't think I could trust you, considering our history. But I was wrong about you. You fought for me, you sacrificed what meant the most to you, and I couldn't have won this war without you. As a thank you for your services, I offer to name you Lord of Casterly Rock. Shall you want it, it is yours."

He let her words register in his brain for a few moments, wondering if he should take it. It was if the world stopped as he said, "I'm honored, Your Grace. But I'm going to have to refuse."

"Oh?"

"If you would be so kind, Your Grace, I would like to be sent to the Wall." He didn't look back to see the shocked expression of Brienne and Tyrion or listen to the gasps that filled the room. "For most of my life, I have tough for selfish reasons. I've put my wants and needs over my duty over everything important. I'm done with that. I wish to spend the rest of my days serving with pride and honor. I want to swear an oath and keep it."

Daenerys couldn't help but respect his decision. Even though he was the man who drove a sword through her father's back, she knew that deep down, he was a man of honor, a man capable of good. There was no more ill will towards each other, everything was left in the past, and she would never forget the things that Jaime Lannister has done for her. Brienne comes by his side and places her arm in the crook of his, letting him know that she supports what decision he makes.

"Very well," Daenerys said, eying the two intently. "And shall you want to make other decisions down the line, you only need to ask."

Jaime turned slightly and smiled at her, knowing that when that decision comes down their path, they would be ready to make it. She had become his solstice this past couple of weeks. After the battle, no one comforted him more. No one held him close and whispered sweet nothings like Brienne. He would treasure those moments, and he would cherish her forever, if he could.

"Ser Jorah," She called him up, and he quickly obeyed. "My friend, there are no words to describe your loyalty towards me. You've fought for me, you've honored me, and you've valued me. I would like to name you Lord Commander of the Queensguard. If you would do me the honor of staying my side."

There was no question about this. Ser Jorah drew his sword and planted it in front of him, "I will not let you down, Your Grace."

She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by Arya Stark's voice, saying, "If I may interrupt, Your Grace." She moved herself to the middle of the room, making her the center of attention.

"Of course, what's on your mind."

Her gaze looks at Jon, then Sansa, then back to Daenerys before saying, "I would like to join your Queensguard."

This baffled both Jon and Sansa, but Daenerys was the first to speak upon it, "That's a surprise."

"I know it's sudden, but," She looked at Jon and Sansa and smiled softly at them. "I've been apart from my family for too long. I've been consumed with hatred and vengeance for most of my life. I want to fight for something more than myself. I want to protect my family from those who would harm it," she looks at the Queen's bump and grins, "And I want to be around when my niece or nephew comes into the world. Because now, you and that child are my family now."

As Arya finished speaking, she didn't notice that Jon had already came down the small set of steps to pull her in a tight embrace. She immediately returned it, breathing in his scent.

"Father would be proud of you," Jon whispered, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

"He would be of you too, no matter what."

She remembered Sandor's dying words to her, _"Don't be like me. Don't let revenge consume you. Live your life; be happy. Get married, maybe have a kid or two. Don't let anything stop you."_

Maybe one day she will, who knows what the world held for her. But for now, this was enough. Her family was more than enough.

"It would be my honor, Arya," Daenerys smiled down at Jon and Arya. "Perhaps you could teach them some new things as well."

And then, the last pair of eyes she met were Sansa's, who now had Theon by her side. There was no question that Sansa and Daenerys had a lot of tension when they first met. Even though they both knew they would never see eye to eye on everything, there was mutual respect between them. And that was almost as good as things were going to get for the two.

"Lady Sansa," Daenerys breathed, rubbing her belly in a soothing motion. "We haven't been on the best of terms, and I won't pretend like we are. And as Arya said, like it or not, we are family. So...is there anything I can do for you?"

She wasted no time saying, "The independence of the North. We've always had it, and that shouldn't change."

Daenerys looked at Jon as he came back by her side. They stared at each other intently, speaking without words. After a moment, Jon nodded curtly and looked at his sister before saying, "The North will remain as part of the Seven Kingdoms, with you as their lady."

"Jon..."

"We have to be united, Sansa," Jon said. "The North is no better than the others, and we need to work together. I trust you to lead them as best as you can. But this is the way it has to be."

Sansa couldn't find fault in his words as he spoke. She didn't expect him to say that, but it wasn't like he was wrong. Giving the North independence would make it seem like they were better than the rest, and that wasn't true. They were all equals, all fighting for one thing; the living. It shouldn't change now, not when they needed to be united more than ever. Sansa looked up at Jon and Daenerys, and couldn't help the smile that hit her lips. Jon looked good up there, even Daenerys. They were going to do a fine job ruling the Seven Kingdoms, and she would be around to witness it.

"As you say, Your Grace."

The people around them bowed respectfully one by one, knowing that the reign of the two Targaryens would be one of the greatest in history.

* * *

"Jon!" The pain Daenerys felt was intensifying by the second. "Jon!"

She wrapped her arms around his neck as they stood in the warm tub. Her hair was matted to her forehead from the sweat from preparing herself for what was to come; the birth of their child. The moment had finally arrived.

"I'm right here, Dany," He held her close as he tried to soothe her. "Focus on your breathing."

Daenerys nodded vigorously before she inhaled and exhaled in rhythm. Her second contraction hit just as quickly as the last but was a little more forceful this time.

"Oh," She huffed in pain. "I don't think I can do this. "

The masters were all around her, carefully scrutinizing her to make sure that she was in stable condition.

"Yes, you can. You're doing great." Her panting became labored as a burning sensation flew through her veins.

"Almost there, Your Grace. Just a few more pushes."

"Dany," Jon whispered in her ear. "I'm right here. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. Focus on pushing. It's almost over." His palms caressed her face and rubbed her back, trying to get her to calm down.

"Jon..." The fire was taking over her senses. It was time, but she couldn't focus. She needed him to help.

"It's alright, Dany, just push." His cool breath blew in her face, and it made it that much easier. With one final push, all of her strength had drained out of her body. And then, her heart fluttered when she heard a small anguished cry break out for the first time. She couldn't help but laugh lightly.

She did it.

"Dany?" Jon's calm voice whispered in her ear as he laid her down gently to rest. "You did it."

"I did it," Daenerys breathed again in amazement, her eyes still closed.

"I'm so proud of you."

And with that, her eyes drew open searching for his face. With a sigh of relief, he bent down and touched his lips to hers. She could tell that he was filled with more joy and excitement than she had ever seen him.

She could barely speak; her lower area was succumbing to the pain as the smell of blood wafted up to her nose. Her nightgown was soaked entirely with it, matting down to her alabaster skin. But she was content, her baby was here, and that's all that mattered.

"Show me," Daenerys kept her eyes closed, trying to regain her strength back slowly. It was then Jon brought their daughter to her, who was wrapped in a soft blanket. Her eyes were closed as she yawned and waved a small pink fist in her face. She looked so much like her father, the way her nose was scrunched and her lips pursed. Daenerys couldn't help but smile at her.

"Our beautiful little princess, I love you so much." She kissed her forehead, cradling daughter to her sweaty chest. They were lost in their world as Daenerys smiled down at her affectionately.

"She's beautiful," Jon breathed, hovering over her shoulder. The name that came to mind was long gone; he wanted to give her the honors. "What should we name her?"

"She needs a strong name." Daenerys brushed her silver hair from her forehead, thinking for a second. "Rhaelys. Rhaelys Targaryen.

Jon smiled softly, "It's a wonderful name."

Daenerys leaned in close to Rhaelys's face, her lips brushing against her forehead once more. "Do you like it, my daughter? You'll have to live up to that name as your own. I expect great things from you."

"We both do."

She just yawned wildly, waving her hands over her mother's face. She smiled as her eyes opened and were the bluish-grey of all babies. She looked around the room in wonder and admiration.

"Beautiful..."

She had her little hand wrapped tightly around her mother's finger. She was so beautiful. Her skin was as smooth as butter, and she almost didn't want to touch her because she was so fragile. It was pale and kind of shriveled, like all newborns. She was moving around and making the sweetest sounds imaginable. She looked exactly like her mother.

"We love you, Rhaelys Targaryen." She bent down and kissed her forehead. "More than you'll ever know."

Jon wrapped his arms around them, and Daenerys sighed as she nuzzled her head against Rhaelys', feeling peace in her for the first time in a long time. Before closing her eyes once more, she could hear Drogon and Rhaegal roaring into the night, celebrating the birth of another Targaryen.


	12. XI.|Oathkeeper

_"Jon!"_

_Jon could only hear the blood pulsing in a rush through his ears. The chaos around him was evident that his senses were obscured. Weapons and other machinery have collided. Some are in flames, and others were disappearing in the thick black smoke. Soldiers are running for cover away from their position. Their hands clutch their weapons tightly. Some are dropping to the ground for protection. Many bleed from scraps and wounds. A soldier ducks down to the ground, looking terrified. Everyone seems terrified._

_What is going on?_

_Jon looks around and notices the trees that hovered over him, burning ever so brightly. He then realizes where he is and what was happening. He was back in Winterfell, lying in the middle of the battlefield, watching as the fight rages on. His eyes were on the blood that curves around his forearm and down his arms, dripping on his lap. He knows he should feel pain, but he can't find a way to understand or process it. He's numb._

_"Jon..."_

_He hears her voice this time, forcing him to look up. The sight that beheld him broke his heart into a million pieces. It was him, holding onto his daughter as he stared at him with cold eyes. He knew who it belonged to, and that alone frightened him. His gaze trailed up, and he starts to shake uncontrollably. The skies rain with explosions, covering everything in black smoke, and right in front of him was the Night King with his hand wrapped around his wife's throat, squeezing the life out of her._

_"Da...Dany," He could barely make out his words._

_"Jon," Her voice called through strangled breaths._

_The Night King's gaze met his, and the grip he had grown tighter. He began squeezing the life out of her body, and her eyes bulged immediately as she thrashed her arms around. He just squeezed harder._

_"Stop it, please!" Jon gaped at the sight as he scrambled to his feet._

_Daenerys' throat felt like a twig that he could snap at any moment. He would have loved to see her lifeless body on the ground, under his command. The Night King forced pressure into the pulse point of her skin and tried to pop it with strength. She tried to speak but she couldn't._

_"Take me," Jon fell back to his knees, begging for her mercy. "I'll do anything! Just let her go!"_

_The Night King took a second to look at Jon before he heard a large snap. And a thud followed after. He didn't look; it would kill him to see her that way. To see the life in those beautiful eyes fade away. He couldn't look at his daughter either, as she remained in his grasp. Daenerys was gone. The love of his life was gone, and he did nothing to prevent it. He gives the little girl a soft touch on the top of her head, a sinister smile playing on his lips. And then her eyes slowly began to turn blue._

_His heart stops when he sees Bran's figure standing behind him, only for him to utter a few words, "Burn the tree. Only then can he be defeated."_

* * *

Jon woke with a start, just like he did every time he had a nightmare. Cold sweat poured down his back, and he sighed deeply, running a hand over his face. The thought was always the same, and he'd had it several times over the past couple of weeks. It was an automatic movement when his eyelids opened. For a moment, he stared at the ceiling. He relived every ounce of sadness, every pang of grief before he sighed, feeling frail but firm arms around his bare torso.

Daenerys was still asleep, unaware of his turmoil, and he didn't dare move to wake her. It wasn't like she was getting much more sleep than him anyway. She sighed and shifted under the sheets, her naked body brushing against his. Jon turned and pressed a soft kiss to her jaw before he extracted himself from her embrace and padded to the next room. He tried dousing his face in cold water to wash away the dream. It didn't work. His mind still whirred around the images in his head, and his racing heart hadn't slowed much.

For a moment, a part of him wouldn't have objected to crawling back under the covers and pretend nothing happened, but they had a busy day ahead of them.

Instead of crawling back into bed, where he knew he'd only lay awake, Jon went back into their room and walked to the small crib where his daughter was wide awake. She immediately smiled at the sight of her father, gurgling sweet nothings to him. He smiled as well as he lifted her up, holding her close to his bare chest. He loved holding her, it was everything he needed, everything he could ever want.

"I see you can't sleep either," He laughed softly, brushing a soft kiss against her head. "I get it, happens to me all the time."

He walked to the balcony with her in his arms, overlooking King's Landing. It was a peaceful night, a peaceful kingdom, and he was apart of shaping its future. It was still strange to him that this was now his life. He jumped slightly when he heard footsteps approaching behind him, "You're up," Daenerys smiled sleepily at her two loves as she wrapped her silky robe around her body.

Daenerys felt the familiar flutters in her stomach. Jon's broad shoulders and defined muscles never failed to make her body stand up and take notice. He would always be a god among men in her eyes, even with the scars that never faded.

"I couldn't sleep," He smiled weakly at his queen, feeling Rhaelys clutch onto him. The final fog of his dream was being pushed aside by her presence.

"I know," she whispered, kissing the corner of his lips "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm fine. It's behind me now."

"You sure?" She cupped his cheek, kissing him again. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"I know," He smiled sadly as she brushed a stray tear away with her thumb. "But I should be worrying about you and our little princess, not the other way around."

Daenerys was about to respond, but she was interrupted by the sound of her daughter's cooing.

"What are you on about, my little dragon?" She smiled, kissing Rhaelys soundly on the cheek. "She's a beauty, isn't she?"

"That she is, just like her mother," He never tore his gaze away from his daughter. She was truly fascinating in every way and they lost themselves in their own little world. Daenerys loved seeing them this way. Jon was a wonderful father to Sarah. He made sure that she was always the center of his attention, but made sure that she was never spoiled. He never took any small moment with her for granted. Because he knew that it could all be taken away in an instant. So he would continue to hold his family close and never let them go for as long as he lived.

* * *

It was a warm, breezy day in King's Landing, and Daenerys found herself enjoying her time there. The people were starting to accept her as their ruler and praised her every chance they could. Not that it wasn't a rocky start, but they eventually came around. For the first time, she felt happy. Truly happy. Because of Jon and Rhaelys, her beautiful daughter. She never thought in a million years that she would be a mother after all she's been through. But Rhaelys...she was truly magnificent. She changed her beyond recognition, and it frightened her sometimes. How could a little life have such a huge impact on a person? She would never understand it, but it didn't matter to her. She had a daughter now, and she would do whatever it takes to protect her.

"What should we do today, my love?" Daenerys kissed her daughter's chubby cheeks. "We only have such little time together before I'm summoned again."

Her hair was a little long for a baby, curling in a unique way around her head. Her nose was small yet strong along with her cute little lips. They reminded her of Jon as they sat along the shore on the bridge, watching the waves constantly crash. She could feel the Dothraki hovering over her shoulders but she didn't mind. She was used to having them around and nothing could ruin this moment with her little girl.

"She's going be trouble one day," Daenerys turned her shoulder to see Arya settling beside her, covered in light clad armor.

"I doubt it," She grinned, running a soothing hand over her silver hair. "She'll remain my perfect little girl always.

"We'll see," Arya chuckled.

They were silent for a moment, both not knowing what to say to each other.

"Are our soldiers prepared?" Arya whispered, fiddling with her dagger in hand.

Daenerys sighed and nodded her head. She bent down and kissed Rhaelys' cheek once more before staring out towards the horizon. She didn't want to think about that. The more she pushed it away from her thoughts, the less it would dawn on her. She couldn't imagine what was to come next, but she knew deep down that none of this wasn't going to end well if they didn't win.

"Once my soldiers from Mereen arrive, we'll let our people know we're marching North," Daenerys huffed, brushing her nose against Rhaelys' hair, inhaling her scent. "Gods, it's like it's one thing after another."

Arya hummed in agreement with her words, "Have you spoken to Jon?"

"Not since earlier," Daenerys shook her head. "Why do you ask?"

"Does he seem...different to you?"

Daenerys knew the answer to that question, and she had a feeling why. Ever since Rhaelys' birth, he was nothing but vigilant. Always protective around her. There were moments where he was happy and joyful, enjoying the time with his little girl. But there were other times when he was distant, and shut himself off from the rest of the world. Including her, which was new.

"He does," She admitted. "I wish I could just take his pain away. He never lets me in on how he's feeling."

"If I know my brother, he doesn't like to talk about his feelings that much," Arya sighed wistfully, turning his gaze to her niece. "He never wanted to be a father, and now that he is, it's like she's slowly slipping away from him. I can't imagine what you two are feeling right now."

"She won't," Daenerys said sternly, her grip around Rhaelys growing a little tighter. She coos in response. "We'll protect her, whatever it takes. I won't let anyone take her away from us. I'll die before I let that happen."

Arya grinned at her determination, "I don't doubt that."

Daenerys could feel Arya's gaze on her and smiled a little. She turned slightly and held out a hand to her, which Arya surprisingly took. They spoke without words, but they understood what they were telling each other. Daenerys was grateful to Arya for everything she had done for her and could never repay her for it. She was part of her family now, and she would do whatever it takes to protect her as well. That was a promise.

"Your Grace," Ser Jorah cleared his throat from the stone steps behind them. "Our guests have arrived."

Daenerys nodded respectfully before kissing Rhaelys on the cheek and carefully standing up and walking down the paved path, heading back to reality once more.

* * *

"I now present to you Daario Naharis, Regent of The Bay of Dragons."

Daenerys sat firmly on her throne as she watched the soldiers fill up the room. She felt Jon and Jorah on both sides of her, standing vigilant as ever. She could feel her daughter resting peacefully in her arms, feeling her small chest breathing up and down upon hers. Others offered to hold her but she wouldn't let them. She barely trusted anyone with her daughter, except Jon. It was an instinct that she couldn't help, but didn't mind at all.

Her eyes met Daario's and she wasn't surprised by the lack of emotion she felt. She felt nothing, no emotion at all. She was glad that he was alive and well, but nothing more. He hadn't changed as time passed. He looked the same, not that she noticed many similarities anyway. Daenerys said nothing to him as they stared at each other, both of them wondering who would say the first word.

He smiled softly before bowing respectfully, "My queen."

"Hello, Daario," She nodded curtly. "I trust that your journey was safe."

"Nothing we couldn't handle," He winked, making her eyes roll inwardly. He hasn't changed one bit. "I see you've adjusted to the royal life quite well."

"I can't complain," Daenerys said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "But I didn't summon you for a reunion. You know why I've asked for you to come."

"Do I?" Daario dare took another step, making the Unsullied and Dothraki move as well.

"You should," Daenerys quirked a brow at him, making him observe the situation. "Or need I remind you?"

Daario looked over at Jon and they stared at each other intently, the tension in the air growing thick. Daenerys knew this would happen, but didn't think too much about it. It wasn't necessary. Jon should know that what Daenerys and Daario had was nothing in comparison to their marriage. It could never. They were happily married, and they have been for two years. And they had a beautiful little princess together. What more could she prove that she was fully committed to him.

Jon was the first to break the tension, "If you would be so kind, we'd like to start going over the plans."

"I'm sorry," Daario chuckled a bit. "I don't believe I caught your name."

Jon opened his mouth to speak but was quickly interrupted by Daenerys as she slipped her hand in his, "His name is Jon Targaryen, and he is my king. Is there a problem, Daario?" She asked, her brows furrowing.

Even with all the time passed, he never forgot about Daenerys. How could he? She was a queen now. Eventually, he got over it. He had to. And now, here she was. With a king, and a child. He remembered the day Daenerys told him she couldn't have children and how she wanted one so desperately. But Jon gave her something she never thought she could have; a miracle. First and foremost, he wanted her happy. So how could he stay jealous after what the two of them have been through together?

There was a brief silent moment until he bowed respectfully once again, "Of course not, Your Grace. Shall we begin?"

Daenerys nodded to Daario as well but never let go of Jon's hand, "I'm sure you're all aware of the danger we face, the war we must fight once again."

Daario crossed his arms firmly as he said, "Yes, though I admit your message was kind of...strange."

"As strange as it may be, it's true," Jorah confirmed. "We called down your soldiers so that we may end this war once and for all."

"Uh-huh," Daario nodded. "And how do you suppose we defeat this 'Night King' if he's as dangerous as you say?"

"The tree," Jon spoke up.

All eyes reached him, peaking their curiosities, "I've been having these...weird thoughts lately." His eyes reached Daenerys' as he continued to speak. "According to Melisandre, the Night King's source of power comes from a tree. It's his very life force. I believe that if we destroy this tree, then we have a chance to end him once and for all ."

"But if that's true, wouldn't that be heavily protected?" Arya turned to ask him.

"In a sense, yes."

"And how do you know this exactly?" Arya questioned him again.

Jon swallowed hard, letting Bran's words wash over him again, "It's complicated."

"The king speaks the truth," Melisandre spoke up from the side of them. "I believe that if the tree is destroyed, so will the Dead."

"The flames tell you that?" Jorah asked, his hands twisting around the hilt of his sword.

"Indeed," She confirmed.

"Jon," Daenerys whispered, squeezing his hands a little tighter. "What is it that you're not telling me?"

His eyes stared at his wife for a moment before they landed on his sleeping daughter as well. Everything he was doing, he was doing it for her, and their family. He couldn't take this anymore, this constant fighting. He wanted to finally live his life. To be free from the endless fight and not have to worry about the safety of the ones he loved. He wanted this to be over with once and for all.

Jon cleared his throat and turned to Daario, addressing the room at large, "Have your men prepared to march up North. We leave as soon as possible."

He slipped his hands away from his wife's hands and excused himself from the meeting. The room was immediately met with silence, taking in the depth of the situation. It was different from the last time they were preparing for this fight for some reason. This was the final war between life and death. And while everyone was lost in their own thoughts, Daenerys relished the warmth of her daughter's embraces and prayed with all her heart that she would see her, every last one of them again when this was all over.

* * *

Daenerys made her way into the stables, her eyes, ever watchful, as Jon began to pack up supplies for the journey up North. They figured they should travel as heavily as possible, considering that it was going to be a long trip there like the last time. Jon still hadn't moved or said a word to her the entire time they were packing. And even though he was a few feet away, he'd never felt more distant from her. Daenerys could feel him slipping through her fingers like crumbled ashes, and she couldn't let that happen.

Without saying anything, she closed the large doors and locked it before walking over to him and shoved him against the wooden walls. His mouth gaped open slightly to speak but was immediately silenced by her lips being pressed against his in a soft yet desperate kiss. He wasted no time to wrap his arms around her waist as his hands rested on her open part of her dress. Daenerys groaned as she locked her fingers in his hair, loving how it felt under her touch. Jon couldn't help but grunt in pleasure when he felt Daenerys's teeth pull his bottom lip in. This was what they needed. Reassurance from each other that nothing had changed. That they were still in love, and that they could still be there for each other.

Jon moved them off of the wall, his hands firmly attached to her hips. Their lips moved in a fiery dance, saying things they didn't have time to tell each other, surrounding them in a euphoria neither of them could describe. Daenerys gasped, loving the intensity of their passionate encounter. Their kisses were wild and aggressive, but never too aggressive. There was always love behind their kisses. Jon's strong hands palmed her rear, and he lifted her up in his arms to set her on the small workbench beside them. She wrapped her legs around his waist and threw her hands around his neck, moaning against his lips once more.

He then gripped her legs and held them tightly. Daenerys' nails dug into his shoulders so hard that they began to feel numb. Jon could feel her anxiousness; she was coming undone in his grasp and was more than ready for him. He swiftly removed her underwear and pushed her dress aside as she unbuckled his pants. Daenerys didn't have any time to recover before he was entirely inside of her. She moaned unashamedly.

His kisses were wild, biting and desperate, firm, almost dominating. He kissed her like it was the first time like it was the last time. His kisses tasted of love and desire, ecstasy, and despair. Everything he had ever felt for her, everything he ever would feel for her, was there in the way his lips caressed hers and the way he rocked inside of her. But there was something else she couldn't put her finger on; the animalistic raw tension between them. Like he couldn't get enough of her, as if she was the only thing attaching him to reality.

He was taking her to places, to heights of passion they'd never reached before. Daenerys's fingers scratched and clawed down Jon's back, nibbling on his lip as well. His thrusts began to get faster, rougher. Her hands tangled in his hair while he roamed her legs with his, squeezing, kneading, and digging into her flesh. Daenerys gasped in pleasure as she focused on every kiss, every caress, on the rising crest of pleasure building in her gut, getting ready to explode through her veins. She closed her eyes, getting lost in a primal rhythm. He was crazed, unable to hold the animal within at bay. His pace increased, his breathing ragged. She writhed beneath him, caught up somewhere between tears and cries of pure joy and ecstasy.

"Jon..."

Daenerys moaned loudly once more as the table hit the wall and started to creak.

Jon placed a firm grip on her ankles as he continued his pace. He knew her body like he knew the back of his hands. They were always in sync. It took a few more rough thrusts before Daenerys quivered her release, Jon following after.

His forehead rested on hers as he tried to catch his breath, "That was..."

Daenerys pressed a hand to his cheek, "Exactly what we needed."

He nodded his head against hers and sighed deeply. He bends down to kiss her lips chastely before pulling away to adjust his clothing, allowing her to do the same.

"So will you finally tell me what's going on with you?" She asked as she smoothed down the wrinkles in her dress.

Jon shook his head, "It's nothing for you to worry about, my queen."

That was all she got. His tone wasn't clipped or angry. She expected more, something, anything. She needed him to let all of his emotions out.

"You can talk to me," Daenerys whispered. "Let it all out. It's just you and me now."

"You know I don't like to lay my emotions bare, Dany," He closed his eyes, breathing through his nose.

"That doesn't mean you can't feel anything, and you're not pushing me away. Not now."

He didn't say anything.

They sat for a while in silence before Jon spoke again, "I failed you once, Dany. I failed Rhaelys once," he said quietly. "I died again, and I would've stayed that way if it wasn't for Melisandre. I'm tired of fighting. And I'm tired of failing."

"I know that you're afraid," Daenery inched closer to him, but still kept some distance between them. "But we have to stay strong, my love. I hate seeing you so defeated like this."

He let out an exasperated laugh. "I'm exhausted, Dany. I'm so tired."

"I know you are," She reached for his hand but pulled back at the last second, thinking twice about it.

"I just want to be able to live my life for once," He felt her body come closer and he wrapped an arm around her waist, "I want us to live in that damn castle for the rest of our lives, a home we can grow old in. A home we could watch our child grow and thrive in. But it seems like every time we get through one obstacle, another one stands in our way."

"Jon," Daenerys got on her knees and placed her hands over his. "Some things are beyond our control."

"But, this wasn't."

Her hands cupped his face as she pressed her forehead against his, "We're gonna get through this."

"How do you know this?" He sighed, clasping his hands over hers.

"Because we'll be together."

"You can't promise that. You don't know what could happen."

She kissed his cheek, "I can promise you this. No matter what, I'll be here for you. We'll get through this together."

Jon's eyes finally met hers, and he felt his heart swell with a feeling he couldn't describe. He didn't know how he had gotten so lucky to end up with such an incredible woman. Even in the face of death, she was always trying to find the good in things. It was something she had taught him, even though he was catching on a little slowly. She was strong, stronger than he could ever be. She was the only thing holding him together. So he would fight for her. Fight for their daughter's future and the happiness that was stolen from them. Whatever it takes.

He pulled her close and leaned his head on her stomach, "I love you, Dany."

She overlapped his hand with hers and pressed her forehead back against his, "And I love you more. Always and forever"

And at that moment, a new promise was made.

* * *

Daenerys was mounted on her horse as she turned to see her men lined up behind her. Her heart swelled with pride at the sight. These men were fighting for her, fighting to protect her family and they knew that it could possibly cost them their lives. She couldn't have asked for more loyal soldiers and better 's voice brought her back to the here and now. She looks down at her daughter who was swindled in a bundle of soft blankets as she looked at her mother with blueish-gray, sticking her hand in her mouth. She made sure her daughter was firmly attached to her chest as Jon move beside her with his own horse, smiling at the sight of them.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Daenerys whispered as she ran a hand through her hair. "We got really lucky with her, didn't we?"

"Yeah, we did." He chuckled a little before it died down, his face growing serious, "She's the greatest thing that's ever happened to us."

"I remember when I first held her, " Daenerys felt tears at the brim of her eyes. "Looking into her eyes thinking that could be the last time I ever could."

She remembered the first few days she was separated from her. Rhaelys had certain health issues that prevented them from holding her, so she was being looked over until she was better. She stayed in that tiny room for observation, four weeks after her birth just to make sure she was strong. Daenerys hated every moment of that but made the best out of the situation. She and Jon would never leave her side and would hold her hand as she slept on.

"I wanted to take away all the pain for her, everything she was feeling. I would burn this world for her," Daenerys caressed her cheek and sighed deeply. "I don't want to lose her, Jon. I can't, not after everything we went through to bring her into this world."

"Dany..."

"I always knew that this day would come," Daenerys closed her eyes, shaking her head. "I just wanted as much time with her as possible."

Jon reached over to Daenerys and clasped his hands over hers, "It's as you said. When this is over, we'll be done. For good this time. We'll be together for the rest of our lives, I swear to you. I'll do anything to make sure that happens."

She believed him. She would always believe him.

And as Drogon and Rhaegal soared across the sky, the soldiers' erupted into a loud cheer, signaling that they were prepared to march down North.


	13. XII.|And Now We Rule.

The journey beyond the North was far from pleasant. It took two months of preparations and nonstop walking but they were close. Closer than Daenerys wanted to. The night was among them, the fires lit to brighten up the area. The soldiers set up their camps, having a festive moment to themselves before they began their march at dawn. Daario couldn't help but see how happy they were, at how happy Daenerys made them. They worshipped her as if she were her savior. Daario was used to that. He knew that she had that effect. Drogon and Rhaegal soared across the night sky as they roared loud and proud. He was standing by his horse, currently brooding at the moment. His eyes shifted to see Daenerys settling in her camp with her daughter in her arms, Jon standing by her ever so vigilant.

Daario lets out a deep breath, watching as Daenerys smiles at Jon.

"You look pathetic," Jorah states beside him as he makes his bedroll. "Just let it."

"As if you haven't done the same," Daario scoffs at him.

"And unlike you, I've moved on," He snorts, sitting down gently. "I knew she could never offer me more than her friendship, and in the end, I realized that's all I needed. And as my queen, I will protect her and her family until the day I die. If you truly care about her, you'd do the same."

"I don't miss this," Daario huffs, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "You talking sense into me and being right."

Jorah shrugs with a soft smile, "I didn't miss you at all."

They both share a laugh before Jorah's face grows serious for a moment, "She's happy. Happier than I've ever seen her. Do your duty, and do whatever you can to make sure she survives this. She needs her family more than you know."

Daario's about to say something back but stops short when he sees Daenerys' face once again. Her smile lights up when she looks at her daughter as she sings sweet nothings to her. She truly was happy. Even he couldn't deny that. He knows that a part of him would always love her, even if she would never love him back. But he could never hold that against her.

So, he would protect her. Whatever it takes to make her see her family again.

As time passed, Daenerys bonded with the people around her. She already considered Arya as part of her family, but their relationship grew as their path progressed. Blood couldn't make them any closer. It was also great to catch up with everyone she hasn't seen in a while. Jon had told her that Sansa and Theon had gotten married and have been happy for quite some time. Jaime and Brienne were also happy spending their time in Castle Black, far away from the messy politics and remaining vigilant for the battle to come.

Daenerys valued them all. They were her allies, her friends even. It was hard watching them be so happy when it was so close to being possibly taken away everything. But it was harder for her to look at her daughter, knowing that her life had only just begun and was close to being taken from her.

She was singing softly to her sleepy daughter in their tent. Rhaelys looked very peaceful curled up into a ball on her mother's chest, her eyes closed with her nightgown curled in her tiny fists. The battle was on the rise, about to spring onto them. Yet again, their happiness on the cusp of being stolen from them.

Rhaelys was breathing evenly, and Daenerys thought to herself of how much she had grown before her very eyes. She was the center of their world, their princess, and everyone was willing to fight for her, for them. And she was growing up very quickly, hardly enough time to watch her growth. It's a shame that she couldn't have a normal childhood, something her mother or father never had as well.

And at that moment, there was nothing more Daenerys wanted than for Rhaelys to have her happy ending happily ever after -even if her mother didn't.

Her meandering was ended abruptly as her gaze settled on her husband, her king, whose face was as hard as steel. The most commended, and the most caring of them was hiding his emotions once more. Was he so afraid that he resorted to erratic behavior to protect his family? He was at the entrance of their tent, watching the men prepare their gear for the battle tomorrow.

He was different to her, in some way. His hair was loose, free of its restraints. His beard had grown over the last two months, making him look more attractive in her eyes. But in his own, she could see the darkness in them, the pain and hurt that lingered within. He was afraid, and rightfully so. The last time he went one on one with the Night King, it didn't end well. He didn't want history to repeat itself now more than ever, and neither did she.

"Jon," Daenerys whispered to him. He didn't look back at her. "Please don't do this to me."

He turned slightly and walked over them, carefully sitting down next to them. He kept his tone quiet in an attempt to keep Rhaelys asleep and disguise his fear. "What do you mean?"

"This face is not yours," She said softly as she traced his jawline. "The Jon I know and love isn't afraid to show me how he feels. It hurts to see you like this."

He smiles sadly at her, running a delicate hand through her hair, "I thought it would be best this way… I don't want you to see me break at the end."

"Jon, I just want you, no matter what you feel..." She held onto his hand, her gaze now falling upon their daughter's sleeping face. She was so beautiful, so full of life. "No matter what happens today, I want to know that she's safe."

"She will be," Jon vowed. "We'll make sure of it."

"And if we can't?"

"We will," Jon kissed his wife's and daughter's forehead. "I promise you...even if I have to make sure it happens myself. I will always protect you."

"...I know."

Jon and Daenerys laid Rhaelys down gently as they rested on both sides of her, wrapped up in each other's arms as their breathing steadied, and their racing hearts slowed down. They didn't say anything. There was nothing left to say. Jon kissed Rhaelys' forehead, and Daenerys did the same. They held each other close and never let go throughout the cold night.

Finally, they both knew it was time to leave. After getting ready, they went down to the river bank for a while before the real world came crashing down on them again. A few minutes after arriving there, they both stopped at a specific spot, letting this poignant moment flow over them. Rhaelys was strapped to Jon's chest as Daenerys leaned on his arm, watching the sunrise. They didn't know if they would ever stand together like this again, but it would always rank high in their most special memories.

Jon's thoughts were running in the same direction as hers, and he smiled softly, "We've come a long way, haven't we?"

She nodded at him, looking out at the sparkling surface of the river. She looked far out to the horizon and let her eyes wander along its expanse. She could make out the curvature of the Earth's surface. The effect was subtle but real. With their hands gripped tightly between them, resting on the weathered snow, the family stared quietly out at the never-ending sea, neither of them wanting the moment to end.

The whisper of the wind, and the distant cries of the gulls. It was an idyllic setting, and Daenerys's chest felt heavy at the thought that this was all going away; that she might never again sit here, in this spot, with her family. That thought weighed heavily on her as they watched the sunrise in the sky.

This was what they needed, a moment alone before their lives change forever once again, a moment alone — a moment to appreciate even the small things around them.

Hopefully, they would have more time to do that.

* * *

They were here, the moment has finally arrived.

After watching her husband nearly dying to him nearly a year ago, the Night King was still alive, resilient, and intimidating as ever. He was fully armored from the last time Daenerys seen him, a giant spear mounted by his side. And as he stood by the tree, his eyes met hers, and she couldn't help the anger that bubbled up inside of her when a cocky smirk hit his lips.

_The nerve of that bastard..._

He had soldiers surrounding him, blue eyes staring into the depth of their soul. Their numbers had decreased over time, but it was still enough for them to worry about. Daenerys shivered at the cold wind that whipped against her neck. It was like death whispering to her, singing to her in a way. She looked around the small field, noticing that they had less room to work with than last time. This was going to be brutal, bloody. But if that's what it takes to protect her family, Daenerys would not hesitate to take it.

Howls could be heard from the side of them, signaling the dire wolves were prepared to fight as well. Jon glanced at Ghost and gave him a small nod. He could always count on him to be there for him. Until the very end. Drogon and Rhaegal roared into the sky, making Daenerys take a deep breath.

Jon looked behind him and saw all the soldiers that were ready to sacrifice themselves. For him and his family. But deep down, it wasn't just about them. He knew that. It was always supposed to be this way. The living against the dead. That's what it was always about in the end. He couldn't be more proud of what he was able to accomplish here. He was a king, a husband, and a father. So much had been thrown his way to lead to this point. This was his destiny, this was his purpose.

Daenerys sidled up by his side and took his hand, lacing her fingers through his. He looks down at her for a few moments, before he leans down and presses his lips against hers in a soft kiss. Even though it was brief, the kiss said everything it needed to. Their love was forever, their commitment was forever, and that no matter what happens on the battlefield, they were forever as well.

"Come back to me," Daenerys whispered, desperation hinted in her tone. "Come back to us."

"As you wish, my Queen."

And with the signal from their king, the soldiers roared their battle cry and charged towards the undead, beginning the final battle.

* * *

The battle was gruesome and never-ending, not that Daenerys was expecting anything different.

Warm blood slid down the side of her head, trickling down her cheek as she watched the flaming arrows soar through the sky. Men were dying like flies by her side. She watched them fall by her feet, the sounds of Drogon and Rhaegal roaring as they burned down the remaining undead. She could feel the flames lingering on her skin, not affecting her in any way. Arya was cutting down wights left and right, trying to keep them at bay from the archers as Jorah and Daario did the same. Her Dothraki and Unsullied corpses could be spotted now and then, but she knew that Grey Worm was still alive and kicking. He always had a strong will to survive.

She suddenly saw Jon rushing to her side, his gaze fixed ahead on the tree. And the only thing that was standing between them was the Night King himself.

Daenerys was about to ask him how were they going to execute their plan before Jon rushed towards him with no hesitation.

He didn't want to waste any time with him. He wielded his sword and ran towards him in a fit of rage. A searing curse burned past lips as The Night King twisted his way. Throwing up his shield, the momentum of the attack ended up throwing him across the ground, where Jon was caught by his unforgiving hand. Disorientated by the impact, and jarred by the crushing power of his grip tightening around his frame, his shield dropped from his grasp.

Jon groaned, resisting the urge to cry out as the hand tightened around him. In defiance to the enemy, Jon refused to show pain. The Night King threw him to the ground, almost as if he was warning him.

Furious, Jon charged at him, swinging his sword widely and gracefully. He tried to connect his attacks, but it wasn't enough. The Night King landed a hard blow, and he felt his collar bone shatter. He punched him in the face, splitting his skin from his cheek to the corner of his lips. The Night King continued his brutal attack by landing a swift kick to his chest, knocking the sword out of his hand and leaving him vulnerable. But before he could strike him again, Jon raised his shield in desperation.

The Night King's sword hacked and hacked relentlessly, forcing his restraint to crack and break under pressure. Jon groaned, feeling utterly weak and helpless. With another powerful strike, he wobbled for balance, and he kicked him forcefully, pressing his advantage and brought him to the ground. Jon landed on his back, his body more broken and torn than it's ever been.

His palms felt numb, grabbing the cold snow below him. His body was burning with everlasting pain, but he would be damned if I were to give up now. Daenerys crawled to his side and placed a hand on his chest.

"Hey, stay with me," She whispered as she caressed his face, her thumb glided gently over his split lip. "You stay with me."

"I will," Jon sighed, leaning his forehead against hers. "Always."

They could hear raw animalistic growls from across the field, and they both knew what was to come next. Daenerys helped Jon to his feet and held him close. They looked ahead and saw hundreds of dead coming from behind them, ready to tear them apart with one single order. They all looked menacing and diabolical, a reminder of when they first arrived. It wasn't looking too good for them. But they both looked at each once more, eyes filled with love and adoration before intertwining their hands together.

And then, Rhaegal lands in front of them and breathes fire upon them. The atmosphere was filled with smoke, and it was spreading. Jon coughed, and his eyes began to water from all the dust and smoke in the air. Behind him, The Night King's eyes locked with Rhaegal. Recognition flashed across its features, a jagged mouth pulling back into a ravaged snarl.

Before Rhaegal could make move, he's hoarded by the remaining wights as they climb up his body. They tear and bite at his flesh as he screams and roars in agony. Daenerys could only watch in horror. Drogon was helpless as well, the Night King keeping him at bay with his spears. It's only a matter of time before she watches him become completely overwhelmed, his cries lingering in her head.

"Everyone fall back, now!" Jon yelled, turning towards the Night King.

There was no more adrenaline left in Jon's body to pump; his muscles burned, seized under extreme distress, and exhaustion. He grunted once more as he got back to his feet. Not wasting any time, Jon quickly rushed him and slashed his weapon at him. The Night King turned to the side at the last second and punched him so hard in the ribs that he could hear his bones crack. Taking advantage, The Night King slashed his back and his legs, making him fall to the ground. Jon was strong. But he was utterly defenseless against him. He had been through hell earlier, and this wasn't making it any better.

Getting back on his feet, Jon unleashed blow after blow on him, striking him with his sword. Blood spilled down the side of his head from cuts and open wounds; his long hair was matted with it. He fought back like a cornered animal, landing brutal blow after blow in quick succession. He absorbed each crippling hit, grunting in pain each time. They were moving so fast that it was hard to process. And then, once more, The Night King blocked his attack and was able to fend him off.

Daenerys watched the scene from the ground as Jon took blow after blow without making a sound. It was chilling, knowing that the Night King didn't kill him but just wanted him to suffer. He knocked him back down across the field. Jon's broken body twitched, slowly coming to life. His arm jerked awkwardly before landing firmly on the ground again. His eyes were on Daenerys' as his head laid against the cold snow.

"Jon," Daenerys whispered, trying to force herself up. She looked over to see Drogon a few inches away from her. A thought crossed her mind, and she knew what she had to do. He was distracted and she knew that this was only temporary. Nothing could stop him, except for one thing.

The Night King looked down and noticed that Daenerys was no longer in that same spot. He turned around slightly and the sight made his heart stop in fear.

A bright aura nearly blinded him, causing him to shield his eyes from the flames. A roar came crashing upon him, thunderous and overwhelming. Daenerys grunted in pain as she held onto Drogon. And after taking a moment to compose herself, Daenerys gave The Night King a determined look. She had him right where she wanted him, and now it was time to end it.

_"Dracarys!"_

Before the Night King could react, he's engulfed in flames. He could feel the fire blazing him mercilessly, the pain that came along with it. The tress begins to burn before his very eyes and he knows it's all about to come to an end. His eyes widen when he sees Daenerys lingering in the flames, wielding a sword in her hands. She gives him one last glare before she plunges the sword in his heart, piercing him to the tree.

The Night King has fallen, ending the battle of Fire and Ice.

Ashes flew across the air, their enemies fading into nothing. They had won, they had stopped the 'Long Night' once more. Daenerys huffs as she tried to compose herself, feeling a wild insatiable burn course through her body as she falls to the ground. The smell of burning flesh flared in her nose and she immediately scrunched her nose up in disgust. However, it was quickly forgotten as she feels the cold snow against her bare skin.

A grin hit her lips as she stares into the sky, "Not bad for a girl who couldn't count to twenty."

The soldiers shared embraces, reveling in their well-earned victory. It was a bittersweet moment shared between them all. It was only Jon who looked around the battlefield to find his Queen. And then, through the haze and smoke, Jon saw Daenerys lying on the ground. Her eyes remained in the sky, nearly glassed over. Her chest heaved with labored breaths. Cold sweat beaded on her skin. She was broken and dazed as he laid there on the ground. Jon slowly sat down beside her and pulled her against his chest, trying to shelter her as best as he could.

Jon kept his hand on the open wound on his stomach, keeping the bleeding at bay. The warm blood seeped through his fingers, but he didn't rightly care. He just wanted to embrace this moment.

"The war's over, Jon," Daenerys whispered against his chest. "Our little princess is safe. We can go home now."

He stroked her hair and lightly brushed his lips against the crown of her head, "Home." He felt blood searing at the corner of his mouth but he quickly wiped it away and held Daenerys closer instead. "You're my home, Dany."

Daenerys closed her eyes and inhaled Jon's scent, "As are you, my love."

Dany pulled back and she felt her heart break at the sight. She reached up and touched his face, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth with her thumb. It was then fresh blood seeped out from the corner of his mouth again.

"Hey," Daenerys watched like a curious observer, mystified by the sight of his blood. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," He coughed a wet, guttural sound from deep within his lungs. He leaned his head back and let it rest against the debris, closing his eyes. "I...I just need a moment, Dany. Let me have this moment with you."

She looked at her husband with sad eyes, the corner of her lips turned up slightly. He was searching for something in that moment, some form of peace she assumed. It had been so long since she had seen him like this. So hopeful and peaceful looking. She missed that part of him, more than he'll ever know. This day had been hard on everyone, no one more than them. He deserved this moment to recuperate.

"Rest," He said between breaths. "How long has it...been since we've truly done that?"

His breathing slowed as it turned into a steady rhythm. Daenerys smiled weakly and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, feeling his cool skin against her lips, "You can rest now, my love. I'm not going anywhere."

And she didn't break her promise. She held her husband's hand and never let go, watching as the soldiers reveled in their victory.

Their watch has finally ended.

* * *

Daenerys laid her head on Jon's chest with Rhaleys cocooned between them as they swayed together by their bedroom balcony. They had returned to King's Landing after their battle and Daenerys couldn't help but feel the weight lifted off their shoulders. She also couldn't help but smile as she heard her daughter's soft coo. She was safe, free from harm and she couldn't be happier. They were celebrated all over Westeros with endless parades and celebrations all in their honor. It was an indication of how much she and her family were loved.

"I can't believe it," Daenerys sighed, closing her eyes. "I can't believe we're here."

"I know," Jon smiled, bending down to press a soft kiss on his daughter's forehead. "We did it."

"It's been so long since I've felt so happy, so free," She looks down at Rhaelys, feeling tears prick at the brim of her eyes. "Jon, everything we've fought for is finally coming true."

Jon looked at her and caressed her face gently, shaking his head a little, "There aren't enough words to express how I love you, Daenerys Targaryen. How lucky of a man I am to have you in my life."

"Jon..."

He breathes a laugh and pulls his family closer, "I never thought I could have this life. I never saw myself as a husband, a father, or a king. But you've given me everything I ever needed, and so much more. You are the love of my life, Dany. You are the queen of my heart, now and always. And I'm so glad that I get to spend forever with you."

Daenerys wipes her cheek and smiles, as she rose on her toes and meshed her lips to his.

It was one of those explosive, eruptive, electrifying, epic kisses that were described in stories and plays. Flashes of memories started flooding back of a time when she was happy with Jon, times that were beautiful, and times when they were very hard. Everything they had been through, had led them to this moment right here. They've been betrayed, broken, and lost people closest to them. They had been through it all, and the strength of her love made it all worthwhile.

Once they were both exhausted, they pulled away slightly. Jon's forehead was on hers again as his breath washed over her face. She had soft tears on her face, and he wiped them away.

"So, now what?" She looked up and smiled at him.

"Now," He smiled back at her before looking down at Rhaelys, who was staring at him with her doe brown eyes. "Now we rule."

And he bent down and kissed his daughter on the forehead once more, pulling his family into a tight embrace.


	14. Epilogue.

TEN YEARS LATER...

"Report," Daenerys said as she walked down the long hallway of Winterfell castle. Sansa was following her close behind, listing things off her chart. Workers and servants were moving things out of the ballroom, clearing it out from yesterday's festivities. Over the years, Daenerys oversaw the reconstruction of Winterfell, making sure it was returned to its former glory. She made sure a few soldiers remained, keeping the castle heavily protected.

While she and Jon were away, King's Landing was handled by Tyrion. He was the most organized person she ever met, and she couldn't think of anyone better to take over her role while she was away. Of course, Daenerys still consulted on everything from a distance, but she rarely had to question his motives. It wasn't necessary. He kept everything from falling apart while she worked on other aspects of her life.

"Our people have been sent the proper food and water. Should last them a few months, long enough for us to stock up again," Sansa ran through the list as they made their way to the great hall. "The stables are looking strong, and the weapons are prepared for defense."

Daenerys nodded simultaneously as she took in her surroundings, "Anything else?"

"Not at the moment, Your Grace," Sansa nodded curtly.

"Thank you," Daenerys gave her a look of approval before she takes a seat in one of her chairs "You've done well here."

"I try," Sansa smiles a little, nodding again. "I'd say we're both doing well, all things considered."

Sansa nudges her head to her belly, noticing the bulge underneath her dress. Daenerys smiles, rubbing soothing circles around it.

"I suppose I can't argue with that," Daenerys grins. "You and I have certainly come a long way."

"It wasn't easy, but I'm glad we put our differences to the side."

"As am I. After all, we're family."

Sansa takes her hand and gently pats the back of it, "And we always will be."

Sansa could admit that she wrongfully judged Daenerys in the past. She knew she could be harsh at times. Circumstances have made her this way and she wouldn't change anything about it, even if she could. It guided her back to her family, her love in Theon, and the strength to be the lady that Winterfell deserves. She was glad that her people cherished her as the years went by, and she hoped to lead them for many more.

Daenerys was also glad that everyone was living their lives now. Jaime and Brienne lived happily in Casterly Rock, now that there was nothing left to fight anymore. They've been married for a few years and had a beautiful son together. Jaime occasionally writes to Tyrion to keep in touch, even though his duties as the Hand of the Queen kept him busy. Tyrion thrived in his home, watching his people grow and flourish through these joyous times. He and Davos made sure everything was kept in order while their Majesties were occasionally away. Davos never talked about Melisandre after she passed, and neither did anyone else. It was a complicated matter.

Sam and Gilly remained in Highgarden, where they would raise little Sam and their son, Dickon. Jon would visit as much as he could, though his duties kept him busy. With the permission of his Queen, Grey Worm left Westeros with Missandei and took her to Naath for a temporary stay. Daenerys didn't mind the time they spent away, knowing that it was well deserved. Though she couldn't wait for them to return, she missed them terribly.

Sansa fulfilled her duties as the Lady of Winterfell, keeping her busy constantly. She was grateful to have Theon by her side through it all. He was her constant source of happiness, and she loved him for it. Arya remained a part of the Queensguard, always traveling along with Jon and Daenerys wherever they went She mostly spent time with her niece and nephews, cherishing the time they had together. Especially little Rhaelys, the knight in training. Her heart warmed greatly at how much of an impact she had on her. They trained every day by the swords, and she knew that she was going to be a force to be reckoned with one day.

And as for the rest of Westeros, it thrived under the reign of the Targaryens. For a time, it saw peace, people living their lives blissfully. Daenerys couldn't help but feel proud of what she has accomplished. She had a goal, a promise she made to herself, and she did all of that and more. No words could express how proud of herself she was for the life she built and the path she's taken.

A small giggle interrupted the queen's thoughts. She stood up a little straighter, listening for it again as she placed a soothing hand on her belly. And then she smiled slightly when she saw ten small digits curl around the edge of the large oak chair behind her. A shock of silver hair followed, and then brown eyes. The head ducked down quickly, giggling again.

"Now, who might that be?" Sansa teased, moving close to the chair.

"Shhhhh." Another voice was added to the first.

"Oh, two of them?" Daenerys grinned. "I wonder who they could be."

Their giggling got louder as they ran away from them.

"You'll never catch us!" Her daughter Rhaella darted across the room, her long blonde hair flowing as she ran. Her brother, Rhaemon, chased after her, but he wasn't as fast. Sansa snatched him up by the waist and spun him around.

"And what exactly are you two doing?" Sansa asked her nephew, setting him on his feet.

"We're bored. Come play with us, mother," He smiled, holding his hands together. "Please?"

"You know I can't do that." Daenerys sighed as they both rushed to her and wrapped their arms around her legs. "Your father and I have some things to take care of today."

"You have things to do all the time," Rhaella sighed, pouting her lips at her.

Rhaella and Rhaemon were connected in a way that neither Jon nor Daenerys could ever understand. They could never be too far away from each other, and they were always in sync. They never complained and rarely fussed. They were so adorable that they practically had everyone wrapped around their fingers.

Rhaemon was a little adventurer It was hard to keep him still, and he would get into something new every day. But when he was calm, he was a good child. He was Jon's son to the bone structure and attitude. They even walked similarly. Of course, those two were inseparable and Jon encouraged Rhaemon's mischievous ways. That didn't mean that he wasn't worried about him sometimes.

Rhaella was the princess that desired the attention of her people. She thrived in it and loved it when everything was about her. Though, Daenerys would make sure she didn't let it get into her head too much. Still, that didn't mean that Rhaella wasn't a good child as well.

"You're supposed to be relaxing. You're not relaxing," Rhaemon said, very matter-of-factly.

"Queens don't have time to rest, my beautiful children," Daenerys ran a hand through both of their hairs. Their eyes reached hers, looking just as identical as the day they were born. Everything about them was the same. It was eerily shocking at times. "Be wise to remember that."

"But you promised we would all spend time together," Rhaella pouted once more.

"Once everything is settled, we will."

"Promise?" Rhaella quirked a brow at her mother.

"Promise, and I'll even let you two have dessert, as a show of good faith," She suggested, hoping to cheer them up. They weren't allowed to have sweets often, so it was a treat.

"Really?" Rhaella's blue eyes shone.

Excitedly, she ran from her mother's legs and clasped hands with her brother, all thoughts charging out of the room.

"Where's your father?" Daenerys called after them.

"The crypts!" They yelled simultaneously.

Sansa chuckled a little and shook her head with a smile, "I'll see that they don't destroy anything."

With a sigh, Daenerys went in the opposite direction and took the stairs two at a time and made her way into the courtyard before heading down into the entrance of the crypts. She would never get used to seeing snowfall in Winterfell. It was truly a beautiful place. Daenerys turned around when she heard a low rumble behind her. She grinned slightly to see Ghost staring at her intently, asking her a silent question in his own way. He had grown even more as time passed somehow, even stronger. Daenerys gave him a hum of approval before he padded his way to her feet. He gives her a gentle nudge and few sniffs before he walks down the stone stairs leading to the crypts.

She stopped short when she spotted Jon, watching him as he lit every candle he possibly could. He always comes down here whenever they visited. It was a nice moment for him to be alone and gather his thoughts. Daenerys couldn't help the smile that hit her lips. She just stood there and looked at her king, unashamed of herself. Her hair was pulled into its usual restraints, slight grays in his hair. It was like ten years had done nothing to him. He looked almost the same as ever. No lines on his face or signs of aging. Well, Daenerys didn't see any, but he assured her they were there. And his body... the things that lingered on her mind every time she looked at him. It was like watching him for the first time every time. His hair was still lustrous, and his voice still sent tingles all over her skin. Then she let her eyes move lower, biting her lip unashamedly.

"Stop staring at my ass," Jon stopped his movements as his lips pulled up slightly.

"Don't tell me what to do, Your Majesty."

He turned around as Ghost sat obediently by his side, "It's not polite to stare."

She grinned at him before making her way towards him, placing her hands in his, "I can't help it. You're a very handsome man."

Jon rolled his eyes but smile nonetheless. "How do you feel?"

Daenerys groaned a little, "Like I'm carrying your fourth child."

They never really talked about how many children they wanted or when they should stop, but Jon figured they weren't stopping any time soon. They couldn't keep their hands off of each other.

"And yet, you're still beautiful as ever."

His smile widened as he bent his head down slightly and pressed his lips against hers. Their hands began to explore each other's bodies and were tempted to their clothing off without a second thought. Even as the years passed, their passion never wavered. It only grew stronger.

"Your constant display of affection never ceases to stop disgusting me," Arya said from behind them, Rhaelys and Nymeria walking by her side.

Jon departed from his wife and felt grunted when he felt his daughter leap in his arms. He immediately embraced her back, "I can see you enjoyed your time with your aunt?"

Rhaelys pulled back and nodded with a smile. She looked more like her mother every day, and Daenerys thought that she was quite wise and thorough for her age. She was exceptional in her studies, her training with her aunt was going well, and she was always prepared for anything. It worried Daenerys how persistent and stubborn he was at some times. It was like she was growing up way too fast before her eyes. Though she still encouraged her independence, Daenerys just hoped that Rhaelys would only take a little time to be a child.

"She gave me a sword to train with today," Rhaelys reached to her side and revealed Needle. "She said I could use it for as long as I needed it. It's amazing."

Jon looked at Arya and couldn't help the prideful smile that hit his lips, "It sure is."

Arya grins as well as she pulls her niece into a small hug, "You're coming a long way, Rhaelys. I'm very proud of you."

"As am I," Daenerys bent down and kissed her forehead. "My little knight in shining armor."

Ghost made his presence known and nudged his head against Rhaelys' as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Nymeria sat beside them, watching over her vigilantly. It was great to see that after all these years, dire wolves remained an essential part of their lives.

Rhaelys turned her head to the side and looked at the statue that was hovering over them, "Checking up on grandmother again?"

Jon followed her gaze and his smile turned wistful, "Yes."

Rhaelys looks at her father and places a hand on his shoulder, "Is she well?"

"I'm sure she is," Jon kissed her cheek.

"Well, we've come down here to escort you two," Arya said. "We're about to serve dinner in a bit and we can't start it without you two."

"We'll only be a moment," Daenerys nodded respectfully, watching as Arya led her niece out of the crypts with Nymeria and Ghost on their heels.

Jon stood up and looked at the statue of Lyanna Stark once more. His gaze traveled down to the other ones as well, where his father, brothers, and the rest of his family remained. He thought back on his life, the trials and tribulations he had to go through. He always wondered what it would've been like if he had both of his parents in his life, if he had the motherly love of Catelyn and became a Stark. There were so many things running through his mind, all the possibilities, and yet he knew he wouldn't change a thing. It all lead him to his purpose, his children, and the love of his life.

In the end, it was always meant to be this way.

_Lyanna, Ned, Catelyn, Robb, Rickon, Bran._

He would never forget them or the others he lost, as they shaped his life and made him the man, father, husband, and king he is today.

"Are you alright, my love?" Daenerys whispered as she slipped her arms through his.

He turns to look at his wife, his queen, his love, and felt his heart get full at the sight of her. As time passed, their love only grew stronger. Jon couldn't see her not being in his life. They had been through so much together and he would always love her with all his heart. Of course, things weren't always easy. There were times where they wanted to kill each other and be their stubborn selves.

But they would always love each other, and that would never change.

"Never better," He kissed the side of her head and lead her out of the crypts, ready to spend another wonderful day with their beautiful family.

**THE END.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has supported and loved my story and remained patient with me through these times. This was my first Game of Thrones and maybe my last but I'm proud of what it was able to accomplish. From the bottom of my heart, thank you and I hope it inspired you in some sort of way. Now that Jon and Daenerys' love story is complete, it's time to move on. Much love!


End file.
